


Chains of Desire

by Diana Williams (dkwilliams), dkwilliams



Series: Chains Universe [4]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: BDSM, Kink/Fetish, M/M, extreme kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 52
Words: 305,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/Diana%20Williams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/dkwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder takes a walk on the wild side and Skinner has to rescue Mulder from the consequences of his actions. They form a new working relationship. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bargains Made

**Author's Note:**

> 1) This series starts in August 1998, around the beginning of season five, and will continue to loosely follow the show (until the point where CC makes me really annoyed and I go off completely on my own...) However, this is a BDSM romp and not the X-Files - any profiling, UFOs, aliens, etc that show up in this story are incidental to the story-line and thrown in for the fun of it.
> 
> 2) Take your copy of X-Files Canon and toss it over your left shoulder. There - don't you feel better? (in other words, what you are about to see here may or may not have any resemblance to events that take place on the show and may be freely altered at the whim of the Almighty Author.) In particular, Krycek has both arms in this series just because I felt like being nice to him (don't worry - I don't make a habit of it!) and because handcuffs work so much better with two arms.
> 
> 3) I write for my own pleasure but I adore feedback and I have been known to whip out a chapter based on suggestions and/or bribes. Chocolate-covered-Mulders and Skinners, preferably. See my email address above.
> 
> 4) This isn't a BDSM manual - I've done some research and - hopefully - I'm getting most of this right, but I'm not a player so I'm sure that I've made mistakes. Any players out there - please accept my admiration and forgive my errors.  
> End of Intro - Let the Games Begin!

  _Lived my life and walked it alone_ _  
All my time and my heart was my own,  
for so long_ _I held the key to everything I'd need_  
_Every dream, so sure that I'd succeed_ _'  
Cause I was strong, so strong_  
_I swear that it was true, till the day that I met you_

 

"Hello?"

"Assistant Director Skinner?" The accent was unmistakably upper class English and sounded vaguely familiar.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"You don't know me, Mr. Skinner, but I know you. I belong to an organization your young friend Mulder calls the 'Consortium'."

Skinner frowned and considered hanging up. "What is this about?"

"Actually, I need your help. Or rather, I need your help in saving our friend from the folly of his actions."

Skinner sighed. "What has Mulder done now?"

"Let me pose a question to you, Mr. Skinner. Are you familiar with the Dionysus Club?"

Skinner felt his heart begin to race. The Dionysus Club. One of the most exclusive and unique clubs in the DC area, catering to a clientele that preferred its pleasures on the unusual side. A discreet and high-class BDSM club. And a place from a time in his life filled with dark desires. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the voice.

"I believe that you are a member."

"If this is an attempt to blackmail me - "

"It is not. I, myself, am a Senior member of that club and, as you well know, it is a strict rule that confidentiality is honored. Just talking to you like this could get me removed from the membership."

Skinner frowned. "This must be important, then, but I haven't been there in years."

"No matter. You are still on the roles." He paused. "Our young friend wandered in there last night."

"It is impossible to just 'wander' in there. You have to be invited or attend with a member."

"He did." The English gentleman sighed. "A young protégé of mine took him there. Without my knowledge."

"And this protégé of yours - would he be of Russian extraction?"

"Yes. I assure you, he had no knowledge of what his folly would lead to, and thought he was opening our young friend's eyes. My protégé has been suitably punished for his lack of thought, but the damage has been done."

Skinner's heart sank. "Mulder signed the Book?"

"Yes."

"As a submissive?"

"Yes."

"Has he been claimed?"

"Not yet. He will be returning tonight."

Skinner rubbed his face wearily. "And you know who he will be assigned to."

"I know who has requested him, and I know that person is a front for our smoking friend."

"Shit."

"Indeed. This person is very, very good, Mr. Skinner, and into the - shall we say - harsher pleasures? He will break our young friend. And, when he is finished, he will turn him over to _his_ master, the smoking man. You know what that will mean."

"Yes." Skinner wanted to curse or throw something.

"There is one chance to save him."

"What is it?"

"This man is a junior member. If a senior member requests Mulder, the senior will be given preference. _You_ are a senior member, Mr. Skinner."

"Are you telling me that the only way for me to save Mulder is for _me_ to claim him?" Skinner demanded.

"That is precisely what I am saying, Mr. Skinner. And we do not have the luxury of time. I need your answer now."

Skinner thought quickly. "There's another way. I'll talk to Mulder, tell him what he's getting into, and he won't go back there."

"Mr. Skinner, I saw Mr. Mulder at the Club last night. He _will_ return. Now that he knows about this place, he will come back. He wants this; he feels he needs it. And you know that there is no stopping that kind of hunger. When he comes back - whether it is tonight or a year from now - he will be claimed by the smoker's boy and he will be lost."

"What do you care?"

There was a sigh on the other end. "Our means may be different, Mr. Skinner, but our ends are the same. We both want to save this planet. You do it from the outside; I do it from the inside. And Mr. Mulder is necessary to both our plans. What is your answer?"

Skinner sighed. "I have no choice. I agree - but you know that Mulder must agree as well."

"I believe that you can convince him. We shall see you at the Club, then, at 8pm."

* * *

The doorman at the Club didn't even glance at Skinner's card; one of his best qualities was that he had a keen memory for faces and knew the membership by heart. Skinner entered and was immediately approached by the Secretary of the Club.

"Mr. Skinner, welcome back. It has been a long time."

Skinner nodded, avoiding the Secretary's eyes, thinking that it would have been even longer if he could have had his way.

"This way."

Skinner followed him through the main room, quietly and tastefully decorated with little alcoves and seating areas for private conversations adjoining an exclusive dining room. All high-class and discreet. No posturing or displays took place in the Public rooms. That was one of the features that had appealed to Skinner when he first joined the Club; there were no public Dungeons here, no slaves being led around on chains. All interactions took place upstairs in the private suites, in a private party room, or, if one preferred, off-site. The Club was merely there to provide the introductions and a secure location for encounters, had its own security force that swept the place for surveillance devices regularly, and a strict policy that kept non-members outside and unaware of what lay beyond its doors.

The Secretary opened the door to one of the small meeting rooms and looked at Skinner. "I understand that no introductions are necessary?" Skinner nodded. "Very well. I will have your table ready when you are finished here."

Skinner entered the room and the door closed behind him. At the sound, the other figure in the room turned around and froze in shock.

" _Sir_?"

"Hello, Mulder." Skinner removed his overcoat and carefully draped it over the back of a chair.

"I - I don't understand. What are _you_ doing _here_?"

"I'm a member, Mulder. A Senior member." He moved to the table and poured himself a glass of scotch. He had a feeling that he was going to need it. "You have been assigned to me."

Mulder blanched. " _What_? But - this is impossible - I can't - I refuse!" He headed toward the door.

"Before you make any final decision, Mulder, you had better listen to this." He pulled out a tape recorder and played the conversation with the English gentleman. Mulder had stopped at the sound of that voice - evidently he recognized it. During the replay, he alternately turned red and then white, and finally sank trembling into a chair.

Skinner turned off the tape player. "You have three choices, Mulder. One, walk out of this place and never come back. Two, agree to be assigned to me. Three, take your chances with Cancerman's associate. What will it be?" His voice was harsh; silently he begged Mulder to choose the first option.

Mulder moistened his lips. "If I choose - agree to be assigned to you - this does not follow us into the office?"

 _Oh, Mulder, you are so naïve_ , he thought sadly. "Of course."

Mulder drew a deep breath. "Then - then I choose to be assigned to you."

Skinner sighed. "Then these are my rules, Mulder. You belong to me on the weekends, from 8pm Friday night to noon Sunday. There will be times when real life intrudes, of course, and exceptions will be made accordingly. We will meet here, at the Club - bring an overnight bag with you with workout clothes as well. I will probably choose to call you something other than 'Mulder', a name which _I_ will select - you will have no say in this." He drew in a deep breath before speaking again. "And finally, while we are here your body belongs to me. Do you understand what that means?"

Mulder flushed but said steadily, "It means - it means that you may have sex with me."

Skinner looked at Mulder curiously, noticing the blush. He hadn't thought that anything could embarrass the brash young agent. "Have you ever been with a man, Mulder?"

"No, sir, but I - I have been - curious about that," Mulder said frankly, looking steadily at Skinner. "What shall I call you, sir?"

"Walter or 'sir' will be fine - I don't care to be called 'master'."

Mulder tilted his head, studying Skinner. "And what do I get from this, sir?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What you are looking for, Mulder. Someone else to take control, to make you do what you want to do without the guilt of choosing to do it. Isn't that why you came here?"

Mulder's eyes had gone wide at the accuracy of his words. "Sir? How - "

Skinner's eyes met his and they were as blank and black as a sheet of slate. "You agree to the rules, Mulder?"

A small smile played at Mulder's lips. "Would it matter if I didn't? You're the boss here and they are your rules. Of course, we know how good I am about following rules, sir."

Skinner chuckled at that, his eyes softening back to normal. "I can see I'm going to have my hands full with you."

Mulder's eyes glinted. "I never promised you easy, sir."

"No, you didn't." Suddenly, to Mulder's complete surprise, Skinner reached out and pulled Mulder into a headlock, just like he had that time at the Hoover. And as before, Mulder felt the heat of the other man's body along his back, the strength in the arm wrapped around his chest. A voice that was like velvet over steel said softly in his ear, "I like a challenge, Mulder. And I'm very, very good at this."

Mulder swallowed hard, trying to suppress the sudden arousal of his body, and then just as suddenly he was free. When he caught his breath and his balance again, he saw that Skinner was picking up his coat and walking toward the door.

"Come, Mulder."

Skinner didn't bother to look back, knowing that the younger man was following him as he walked down the hallway to the dining room. A waiter was there to lead him to a table and Mulder followed in their wake, looking around with frank curiosity. Only half of the other tables were filled, and the occupants were diverse combinations of men and women. He tried to determine which were the "Doms" and "subs" at each grouping, a task that was harder than he had thought it would be. Somehow, he had always thought of a top as being like Skinner.

Like Skinner. Curious that he had always recognized that Skinner was the alpha male. Mulder had few illusions about himself and knew that he had a masochistic streak a mile wide. But the ease with which he found himself accepting Skinner as his potential Dom surprised even him. Had he always wanted this from Skinner?

He frankly studied the man across from him while Skinner ordered for both of them. Like the others here - and unlike those at the nightclubs he visited the night before - Skinner was dressed in business attire with no attempt at flashy dominant dressing. It was just so evident from the way he acted that he was a Dom, and Mulder found himself wondering if Skinner had always been like this. Mulder knew that _he_ had always been like this, even if he hadn't realized what "like this" meant at the time. Sensitive, he had been called. His father had said crueler things than that - but then that was hardly unusual. His father had always said cruel things.

The Secretary came over as the waiter left. "I trust that everything has been worked out satisfactorily?"

Skinner's eyes met Mulder's for a moment and Mulder was surprised to see a little sadness there. Was Skinner having regrets about this? he wondered, his throat suddenly dry.

"Yes," Skinner said flatly.

"Then I shall see that this contract is entered in the Book." The Secretary set a box down on the table. "Welcome back, Walter Skinner," he said quietly, then nodded his head to Mulder and left.

Mulder looked curiously at the box and Skinner picked it up. "One last formality, Mulder." He opened it up and removed what appeared to be a man's gold ID bracelet. "Your right hand, please." Mulder stretched out his right hand and Skinner fastened the bracelet around it. "This marks you as my property. You are to wear this at all times." His eyes met Mulder's, holding them with an intensity that made it impossible for Mulder to look away. "I want to be very clear on this point, Mulder. You are to wear it when you sleep, bathe, jog, fight liver-eating monsters, _At All Times_. Removing this bracelet removes you from my protection, allowing any Dom here to approach you - and you don't have the experience in this lifestyle to handle being a free-sub. Plus, we know that Cancerman owns one of the junior members. He will be watching for an opportunity to get his hands on you. This is not my rule, Mulder; it is a Club rule. If you break it, I cannot save you from the result of your own folly. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Mulder said faintly. He looked down at the bracelet, blushing slightly, and wondered how incriminating this might be in the outside world.

Skinner looked amused. "It doesn't say 'Property of Walter Skinner' or anything else so obvious, Mulder. When we pass our tests, we each choose a unique symbol for marking our property. The gold indicates that I am a senior member."

"Tests?" Mulder asked, ignoring the word "property" which made shivers run up his spine.

"They don't let just anyone proclaim himself or herself to be a Dominant - a top, if you prefer." Skinner sipped his wine, an excellent vintage as always. "This Club prides itself on having the best, the most skillful, and the safest. You have to pass tests to become a Junior, and more tests to become a Senior. Even after that, if there are three formal and substantiated complaints from subs a Dom is out."

Mulder looked at him with a certain amount of awe that, Skinner thought ironically, he had rarely - if ever - seen in the office. "So when do we start, sir?"

"We have already started, Mulder. You belong to me now. The only _safe_ way to end this - and you may end it at any time - is for both of us to go to the Secretary, remove this ID and your name from the Book. You would then be safe from being claimed by any other master here, but you would also not be allowed back in the Club."

Mulder nodded. "I understand."

"And as for your training," Mulder repressed a shudder at that, "we will start this weekend if you are available."

"Of course, sir," Mulder said promptly.

"You are certain, Mulder? Nothing you need to finish up? Once we start, your weekends will belong to me unless we make prior arrangements."

"I'm certain, sir." Mulder smiled, wryly. "I don't have much of a life outside work."

Their dinners arrived and Skinner occupied himself for a few minutes, then asked the question that had been bothering him. "Why did you come here, Mulder? Why did you let Krycek, of all people, bring you here?"

Mulder flushed a little. "I ran into him, sir. In an S&M nightclub. I had heard of it and was checking it out. He came over to me there and made some rude remarks about the place. He said that if I was really interested he knew this place - very exclusive, very good. I was - curious. He brought me here, showed me around. Challenged me - so I signed the Book." A rueful smile crossed his face. "I was really ill last night when I got home, wondering what I had gotten myself into. I had no idea it was a set up, though. I mean, how could they know that I was interested in this sort of thing?"

"It's not that hard to figure out, Mulder. Given the load of guilt you carry around, this was bound to be attractive to you, once you found out about it. The only question would be whether you would request a male or female Dom. Once again you have managed to land on your feet - just barely."

"I'm lucky that you are a member, sir," Mulder said frankly. "What I don't understand is how Krycek found this place - it doesn't seem to be his type of place."

Skinner stared at his drink. "I brought him here."

Mulder stared at him, mouth wide. "You, sir? Then was he - " He glanced at the bracelet.

"No. I never trained Krycek. This was years ago, before we found out he was a double agent. He was already into the lifestyle when we met. I was a member and I brought him here for a few...encounters. He attracted the attention of others and we went our separate ways." He looked up, meeting Mulder's eyes squarely. "For the record, Mulder, you are the first I've given my bracelet to. I gave this all up years ago, until I got that call."

"I - I'm sorry to have put you in this position, sir. If you don't wish to continue - "

Skinner sighed. "Mulder, we both know that you won't walk away from this and I won't let Cancerman have you. So - until the day that you decide you don't need any of this anymore - let's just consider that topic closed."

"Yes, sir."

Skinner took another sip of his drink. "Before we start, we need to discuss parameters for our games. How familiar are you with the lifestyle terminology?"

"I - uh - I've been doing some reading lately. As I said, I was curious."

"Bring a list of the books with you this weekend - I want to make sure you're getting correct information. I'll also give you a list of good books on the subject. I don't object to intellectual curiosity, but I don't want you wallowing in a lot of the garbage out there."

"Yes, sir."

"I have experience in all areas but my preference is D/s - Dominance/submission. I try to tailor the game to the needs of my sub but I will not intentionally inflict pain. Do you understand me, Mulder? If you are looking for someone to beat you for your sins then you've got the wrong man and we had better terminate this now."

Mulder cleared his throat, looking a little relieved. "I - that's fine with me, sir."

Skinner studied him. "Is this making you uncomfortable, Mulder?" he asked in amusement, thinking that Mulder was not nearly as sophisticated as he tried to act. "Truth, Mulder. I don't tolerate lying in the game arena."

"Yes, sir, it is," Mulder admitted. "But I can live with it."

"Good answer. I'll be pushing your limits, Mulder - that's what the game is about. You'll have to be totally honest with me or I could end up pushing dangerous buttons for you." He studied Mulder's face again, thinking of what he knew about the agent. "Because of that, you'll have two safe words. The first one you will use if you are in unbearable physical discomfort. When you use that word, I will stop playing and evaluate the situation with you to determine what is causing the problem and whether we can continue. The second word will be for unbearable emotional discomfort and, when you use that word, it _will_ stop play. It doesn't mean that we won't play again, just that we'll drop into comfort-mode till we determine what caused the problem. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Mulder shrugged as if not concerned.

Skinner's eyes narrowed and he reached out to grab Mulder's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "I am serious about this, Mulder. These games can be healthy emotional and physical releases, or they can destroy you. I am not interested in breaking you, unlike our friend. If I find that you are _not_ using the safe words, I will end this agreement and see that you are transferred far beyond Cancerman's reach. Am I understood, Mulder?"

"Yes, sir," Mulder said, eyes wide and voice faint.

Skinner softened his voice and let go of Mulder. "There is no shame in admitting that something is too much for you to bear. Sometimes all you will need is a little reassurance before we continue, or stepping back to a familiar level. Strength comes in knowing our weaknesses."

Mulder dropped his eyes to his plate, saying softly, "I may have a lot of buttons, sir."

"I'm aware of that, Mulder. If we start a game and something pushes one of your buttons and we have to discontinue till the next weekend, I will not blame you or refuse to play again. There may be some things we can never do. I know that you have a problem with being restrained so, if we cannot work around that, it may be something we have to avoid."

He studied the younger man who was pushing his food around on his plate. "Are you having a problem right now, Mulder?"

Mulder looked up, startled. "Sir?"

"That steak is already dead, and those vegetables will never compete in the Indy 500."

Mulder grinned, surprised by the subtle humor. "Sorry, sir."

"So what's the problem?"

"I guess I'm just realizing what I'm getting into," Mulder said frankly. "Stress tends to go straight to my stomach."

"Lose your appetite or lose your lunch?"

"Depends on the stress. Appetite first."

"Then I think we'll quit while we're ahead. Think about what we've talked about and, should you decide you don't want to go through with this, let me know by Friday afternoon. Now," Skinner said, deftly changing the subject, "I understand that you like basketball. Did you catch the game night before last?"

Mulder nodded and launched into an animated discussion of the game's highlights, and Skinner was satisfied to see that Mulder's appetite returned. When they parted at the lobby, Mulder seemed to be in cheerful spirits. Skinner wondered if that would last, wondered if he would get a call during the week. And he wondered if he would be relieved or disappointed to receive such a call.


	2. Claiming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner and Mulder meet for their first weekend as Dom and sub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Can’t Get Close Enough to You" by Michael Bolton.

_Come to me, breakin' me, showin' me no mercy_  
_Filling my heart with your love_  
_What have you done to me?_

 

Skinner entered the Club with an overnight bag in hand and went to the Secretary's desk to get his key. The Assistant Secretary was on duty and handed him the cardkey.

"Sir, the young man is waiting for you over there." He pointed in the direction of an alcove. "I tried to explain that he was supposed to wait upstairs, but he was most anxious to wait down here." He smiled indulgently at Skinner. "He is new to us, isn't he?" Skinner nodded. "Well, no harm done, but you might just want to emphasize the Club rules to him."

"I'll do that," Skinner said grimly.

The Assistant Secretary smiled even wider. "A stubborn young man, sir. You will have your hands full with him, I imagine."

Skinner nodded, picked up the cardkey and his bag, and stalked over to the alcove. Mulder was pacing in the small area and Skinner's first thought was that Mulder had changed his mind at the last minute. He was surprised at the wave of disappointment that washed over him at that thought. Then Mulder caught sight of him and relief came over the young man's face.

"Mulder, you are supposed to wait upstairs," Skinner growled at him.

"I - I know, sir, but I got here early and then I got nervous and, well, I thought it would be better for me to wait here for you."

"Better for you, perhaps, but it is against the Club rules. Some very important - and very private - people use this place, and they don't want _anyone_ hovering around here when they check in. So from now on when you check in you go upstairs and wait. No matter how nervous you get. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Skinner grabbed Mulder by the back of the neck and briskly walked him past the desk to the elevator. He led the way down the hall to the suite, gestured for Mulder to enter, and closed the door behind them. As he unpacked his bag, he watched Mulder as he nervously paced around the main room. The young man's eyes briefly landed on the more unusual furnishings of the main room - the "toy" cabinet, the rings set into the wall and ceiling, the massage table, the king-sized bed with brackets set into the four corners - before shying away. A smile crossed Skinner's lips; Mulder was in for an education this weekend.

"All right, Mulder. The first thing we're going to do is get you ready. From now on, you will arrive at 8pm and prepare yourself, and I will be here at 8:30. I will expect you to be ready when I arrive. Is that clear?" "Prepare - "

"Mulder, is that clear?" Skinner said sternly.

"Yes, sir," Mulder said faintly.

"Good. Now undress."

Mulder swallowed hard. "Sir?"

Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Well, you didn’t think we were going to discuss basketball all weekend, did you?"

Mulder flushed. "No, sir. Uh - how do you want me to do this?"

"Just get undressed quickly. Later I will teach you how to undress for show."

"Yes, sir." Mulder began unbuttoning his shirt, pulled it free of his jeans and took it off, then stood with it in his hand as if unsure what to do with it.

Skinner tried not to smile. Assuming a bored tone he said, "Just throw it on a chair. And hurry up. A good sub should be able to strip in thirty seconds."

Mulder tossed the shirt on a chair and toed off his sneakers, then unfastened and unzipped his jeans and hurriedly pulled them off, followed by his socks. Finally, hesitantly, he hooked his thumbs in his boxers, pushed them down, and stepped out of them.

Skinner appraised the naked body in front of him. "Turn around." Mulder did so, and Skinner could see the blush spread across his face and down his chest. "Face forward again." Mulder obeyed. "You have a beautiful body, Mulder." Mulder blushed even more, dropping his head to stare at his toes. Skinner stood up and crossed to him, using his fingers to lift Mulder's chin to meet his eyes. "I just complimented you. What do you think you should say?"

Mulder looked embarrassed. "I - I'm not used to compliments, sir."

"You will be." Still holding Mulder's chin, he said softly, "Your sole existence here is to give me pleasure. And it pleases me to enjoy your body. Keep that in mind."

"Yes, sir."

"Shower," he said and lightly swatted Mulder's ass.

Mulder retreated into the bathroom looking relieved and Skinner heard the shower go on. He moved about the room, preparing it. The covers on the bed were pulled down, lights dimmed, the supper he had ordered removed from the dumbwaiter and set out on the table. Tonight was all about seduction, Mulder's seduction, introducing him to pleasure in a way that would make him hunger for it again. An eager sub was a willing, cooperative sub.

Mulder came out of the bathroom, hair still slightly damp and a towel wrapped around his waist. Skinner looked at him and raised an eyebrow, and Mulder removed the towel with a blush. Skinner nodded his approval and gestured for Mulder to join him. He held up four pieces of leather with sheepskin pads.

"These are yours; I bought them especially for you. From now on, you will keep them with your overnight bag." He buckled the cuffs around Mulder's wrists and ankles. "When you arrive here, you will strip and shower, then put these on. Since you will be wearing them, it will be in your best interest to keep them clean and oiled."

"Yes, sir. Do I get a collar, too?"

"My collar is _earned_ , Mulder. When you have proven yourself to me. Now - dinner."

"Dinner, sir?" Mulder looked at him blankly and Skinner smiled.

"Food? You remember the concept?" He gestured toward the table. "Sit down."

Mulder looked down at his nakedness and blushed. "Umm…"

"Most of the time you are in this room with me you will be naked, so get used to it."

Mulder obediently sat at the table but only picked at his food. Skinner recognized his nervousness and decided to distract Mulder.

"Mulder, tell me about your past sexual experiences."

Mulder looked up at him, startled. "Sir?"

"You don't have to go into graphic detail. I'm just trying to determine what kind of experience you've had."

Mulder stared at his plate, pushing his food around with his fork. "I - uh - lost my virginity when I was sixteen. She was seventeen and more experienced. After that, there was the occasional tumble until my second year at Oxford. That's when I met Phoebe. She was older, and way more experienced, and she put me through the wringer - emotionally and physically."

Skinner was studying him with sympathetic eyes. "So that's why you didn't choose a female Dom."

Mulder shrugged. "Been there, done that, got the emotional scars to prove it. She abandoned me for another man, one who could give her career a push."

Curious choice of words, Skinner thought, and had the feeling that Mulder had been abandoned many times in his life. "After that?"

"The occasional one night stand, another girlfriend, but nothing serious."

"What about Scully?"

Mulder looked up, puzzled. "What _about_ Scully?"

"She's a beautiful, intelligent woman and you're on the road a lot together. You love her."

Mulder nodded. "Sure I love her, but not like that. She's my best friend."

"Are you telling me that you never fantasize about Scully?"

Mulder looked up with a grin. "I didn't say that. I fantasize about lots of people that will never become reality." He suddenly flushed.

Skinner understood that blush and said, softly, "Have you ever fantasized about me, Mulder?" The blush deepened and he chuckled softly. "That's very flattering. Anyone else you fantasize about?"

"Krycek," Mulder muttered, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.

"Understandable. He's a very beautiful young man. And I would say, based upon his recent action in bringing you here, that he has similar fantasies." Mulder's head jerked up, eyes wide, and Skinner's eyes met his. The hard look in them made Mulder swallow. "But understand me, Mulder. You belong to me now and _I do not share_."

"Yes, sir," Mulder said faintly.

"Come here." He gestured to the floor in front of him and Mulder got up from his chair and came to stand in front of him. Mildly, he said, "I don't want to get a crick in my neck." Mulder flushed at his mistake and knelt. "You're new at this and you have a lot to learn. First thing for you to remember: while we are playing these games you will obey me. I won't require your silence as some tops might - I know that's an impossible goal - but I expect instant obedience to an order, and I expect you to put a curb on that tongue. This is not a debating society, Mulder, and I am not interested in your creative stories. Also you do not touch me without my permission but I may touch you anytime I wish. Your body belongs to me, which means that I determine when - and if - you come. Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Good. All right, Mulder. Go kneel on the bed, facing me." Mulder obeyed. "Now I want you to show me how you pleasure yourself."

Mulder's eyes widened. "You want me to jerk myself off - in front of you?"

"I believe that's what I said." Skinner sighed. "I know you're new to this, Mulder, but do I need to repeat the rules?"

"No, sir."

"Then please observe them, unless you wish to learn what the penalties for breaking my rules are."

Mulder swallowed convulsively at the tone in Skinner's voice. He reached down and took his penis in hand, then said faintly, "I - I can't."

"Of course you can," Skinner said softly, and Mulder shivered at the silky smooth tone. "Just close your eyes and pretend you're alone." Mulder's eyes slid shut. "Now choose a fantasy and lose yourself in it. Don't tell me, just show me."

Mulder began stroking himself, sorting through his fantasies for one that would provide the proper stimulation but all of them were tired old scenes. He slitted his eyes a fraction, glancing across at Skinner. He didn't seem to be affected by any of this, not the room or Mulder's nakedness. Damn it, was the man made of stone? Or maybe he wasn't personally interested in Mulder, was just doing this for sheer altruism, to keep Mulder out of trouble?

He wondered about Skinner and Krycek - did Skinner find Krycek's body more appealing than Mulder's? - aware that these thoughts were making him aroused. He wondered what it would take to arouse the man sitting before him - could he crack that stone-cold exterior? Keeping his eyes slitted so that he could watch Skinner, he spread his knees and arched his back a little to present a better view. He used his other hand to play with his nipples, to run his fingers over his flat belly, to finger his balls. He saw with satisfaction that Skinner shifted slightly in his chair and gave himself up to hedonistic self-pleasuring.

Skinner had seen the partially opened eyes and had been aware when Mulder shifted from fantasizing to exhibition. He was amused by this turn of events and not above letting Mulder see that. The man had the soul of a bottom, even if he wasn't aware of it yet. Of course this was a common bottom trick, trying to seduce the top and thus escalate the action, and Skinner had no intention of falling for it - especially from a neophyte sub.

Mulder felt his climax coming and gave into the vocalization of it, arching back further and increasing the speed of his hand until he was coming hard, crying out. He collapsed on his back on the bed, trying to catch his breath and still his racing heart.

"Very good, Mulder," Skinner said dryly. "Quite an impressive show."

Mulder turned his head sideways to look at Skinner, chagrined that his intention had been so transparent. He saw the amusement on Skinner's face and grinned back, feeling relaxed for the first time. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "Thank you, sir."

"Yes, I think you deserve a reward for that. Go clean yourself up."

When Mulder returned from the bathroom, he was curious to see that Skinner was removing some items from the cabinet. He sauntered over nonchalantly, trying to see what Skinner was getting.

"No fair peeking," Skinner said humorously and Mulder grinned. Who'd have thought that Skinner had a sense of humor? His own sense of adventure was resurfacing; so far nothing too scary had happened here.

"Lay down on the massage table, face down," Skinner instructed and Mulder obeyed. Skinner poured some massage oil on his hands and began working on Mulder's shoulders, wringing a groan from Mulder.

"God, sir, you're good at this."

Skinner smiled and continued working his way over Mulder's back, his arms, and his legs. Once he had covered all of Mulder's back and had the young man relaxed, he decided it was time to up the stakes. With his left hand on Mulder's back, keeping him prone, he gently inserted a lubricated finger into Mulder. Mulder gasped at the sudden invasion, squirmed, but couldn't get away from Skinner. He let out a sob.

"Breathe, Mulder. Deep breaths." Mulder drew in a ragged breath while Skinner gently stroked his back. "That's it. Relax." He began slowly working the finger in and out and Mulder groaned, this time in pleasure. "There, that's not so bad, is it?"

"No…" Mulder laid his head down weakly on the table. It actually felt quite good but it made him more than a little apprehensive. Now he was positive that he was going to lose his anal virginity this weekend, to Walter Skinner, his boss and now his top. His life couldn't get too much weirder, could it?

Skinner removed his finger and deftly inserted a plug of about the same size. Mulder snapped up his head again and stared over his shoulder.

"What the hell was that?"

"An anal plug. It will help stretch you so you won't get hurt. Roll over, Mulder."

Mulder did so, wincing a little. "How long do I have to wear that thing?"

Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Until I remove it. Are we forgetting the rules again?"

Mulder sighed. "No, sir." He closed his eyes as Skinner began massaging the front of his body, avoiding the genital area, and sighed again in pleasure. This was nice, definitely nice, even if it did feel like he had a popsicle stuck up his ass. He realized that Skinner had stopped his massage and opened his eyes warily, wondering what Skinner had planned next.

He didn't have to wonder long. "Bed," said Skinner. "You may undress me."

Mulder sat up, forgetting the plug for a moment, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Shit!" He gingerly got off the massage table and glared at Skinner, who was making no attempt to disguise his mirth. Mumbling under his breath, he stood in front of Skinner and began unbuttoning the older man's shirt.

"Are we having a problem, _boy_?" Skinner asked sternly after listening to the sub voce mutterings for a minute.

Mulder's head snapped up at that tone and he swallowed hard. He still wasn't sure what the penalties for insubordination were in this environment and he had gotten a good look at the implements in that cabinet while waiting for Skinner.

"No, sir," he said quietly and made quick work of removing Skinner's clothes. His eyes widened a little at the sight of Skinner's cock. It was impressive even when not aroused and he wondered how his body could possibly accommodate it.

"Relax, Mulder. That's not on the schedule for tonight. We've got a bit more stretching to do before you'll be comfortable."

Mulder tried to look disappointed but only managed to look desperately relieved. Skinner tousled his hair and pushed him toward the bed.

"Lay down on your back."

Mulder carefully did as ordered and Skinner settled onto the bed beside him, running a gentling hand over the younger man's body. To Mulder's surprise, he found that Skinner was kissing him. It felt strange: firm lips against his, the feel of beard stubble against his chin. Strange, but pleasurably so. Experimentally, he allowed his mouth to open and felt a tongue slip in, deepening the kiss. He could hardly breathe but he didn't care, and it just felt so _good_.

"Oh, God!" he gasped when his mouth was finally freed, feeling lightheaded. And then that mouth was moving across his cheek, down his neck, nipping and sucking as it moved. A tongue tickled against a nipple; he arched against it and felt the nipple being sucked into that hot mouth, roughly tongued. Then the other nipple was tended until both were tingling, and the mouth moved across his belly, down his groin. He held his breath for a moment and then felt that hot mouth engulf his cock.

"Jesus, Walter!" he breathed, then the mouth began working him over and all coherent thoughts or words fled him. His infrequent encounters had occasionally included blowjobs but they had always been perfunctory and unsatisfactory. This was a whole different experience entirely. Skinner was obviously as skilled at this as at all other things and clearly enjoyed what he was doing to Mulder. Mulder suddenly found that all doubts had fled from his mind - whatever mind hadn't been sucked out through his dick. He was soon bucking and begging and pleading, then a final touch and he was coming hard, screaming as he came.

When he came back to his senses, he was cradled against Skinner's side, his head on Skinner's shoulder and two arms wrapped around him. He shuddered, stretched, and tilted his head up to look into Skinner's face and smiled.

Skinner blinked. He had only seen that smile once, on the day that Scully's cancer had gone into remission, and its effect at close range was nearly blinding. Something between pain and joy twisted inside him and he had to draw a deep breath. This was not good; one should love but not fall _in love_ with one's sub.

"Thank you, sir," Mulder was murmuring. Skinner had to smile at that and all doubts flew away. It was just a game, after all; this was not real life, not a relationship.

"I take it that was good for you?"

"The best," Mulder said with a contented sigh, and tucked his head under Skinner's chin. He was quiet for a long time, and Skinner thought he had gone to sleep. "Sir?"

"Why aren't you asleep, Mulder?" He tried a stern tone with his words but Mulder seemed undeterred.

"You haven't had any release."

Damn the man for saying that. Skinner had been quite successful at turning his mind from his own need and the warm body in his arms until then. His cock flared to life.

"Please, sir? Let me, please?"

Skinner pushed himself up a little so he could clearly see the man's face. "It isn't necessary, Mulder. I can wait."

Mulder's mouth twitched with a smile and he said, glancing down Skinner's body, "I don't think so, sir. This can't possibly be healthy for you. You might - explode or something, and then I'd be a virgin forever."

"Well, we can't have that," Skinner said, grinning at the audacity of the man. "Very well."

Mulder started to pop up then remembered the plug and gingerly moved onto his knees. He started nuzzling at Skinner's neck, moving down to the nipples, repeating the motions that Skinner had used on his own nipples.

Skinner groaned; damn the man, but he was a fast learner! He was going to have to stay on his toes to keep Mulder from taking control. His mouth moved down to Skinner's cock, nuzzling at the thick bush surrounding it, licking upward along the underside. His tongue circled the head, teasing the slit, and Skinner groaned and bucked upward.

Mulder gagged at the sudden feeling of the large cock filling his mouth and backed off, taking the cock in his hand. "Sorry, Walter," he murmured, a little sheepishly.

Skinner reached down to gently stroke the dark hair. "It's okay, Mulder. You're doing fine for your first time - better than fine. Just use your hand - you were quite good at that as I recall."

Mulder grinned impishly. "Yes, sir." He began stroking, using his other hand to roll the balls in his hand, until Skinner was groaning and thrashing and then coming with a shout before collapsing on the bed.

When he opened his eyes, Mulder was grinning down into his face. "You okay, sir?"

He gently cuffed the back of Mulder's head. "You are an insolent brat and I should probably beat you senseless."

Mulder just grinned, sensing the threat was empty. "Yes, sir. You can do that in the morning - right now you need to sleep."

Skinner growled and pulled Mulder down on his shoulder again, wrapping his arm around the young man. "Good-night, Mulder."

"'Night, sir."

* * *

Mulder woke to the sense that someone was watching him and blinked open sleepy eyes to see that it was early morning and that Skinner was lying propped up on one elbow, watching him with a smile. He smiled back, a little tentatively. Some things that felt okay in the night felt a little awkward by daylight.

"Good morning, sir." He blushed a little under Skinner's scrutiny. "Is - everything okay, sir?"

"Fine. I'm just wondering what I'm going to call you."

"Call me, sir?"

"Well, I can't continue calling you 'Mulder' - it's a little formal for this situation and reminds me too much of my troublesome agent from work. I know you hate being called by your first name. You have a lot of cat-like qualities so I suppose I could call you 'Cat' or 'Kitten'."

Mulder looked horrified. "Oh, God, sir! I don't think I could answer to 'Kitten'."

Skinner reached out to grasp Mulder by the back of the neck and shook him gently. "You'll answer to whatever I choose to call you, boy. One of my rules, remember? I get to pick the name. Although I'm open to suggestions."

"Call me Fox," Mulder said softly. "I don't think I'd mind if _you_ called me that."

Skinner studied the young man. "It's not going to mess up your mind if I call you 'Fox' in the throes of passion?"

Mulder grinned. "Well, as that would be a unique situation, I don't see how it could." Then his face shadowed and he shrugged, turning away. "I'm more used to hearing it with disappointment or anger."

Skinner gently gripped his arm and kept him from escaping. "Fox," he said gently. "It's all right."

Mulder turned back to him, the naked honesty hidden under mischief again. "Easy for you to say. You haven't got a pine cone stuck up your ass."

Skinner chuckled but shook his head. "You are impossible. What was I thinking, taking you on? You'll put me in an early grave."

"Yeah, but at least you'll die happy," Mulder quipped.

"On your stomach, Fox, and we'll see about extracting that pine cone." Mulder obeyed and Skinner examined the plug, twisting it and stroking it in and out while Mulder moaned and clutched the sheets. "Yes, I think we can take this one out." He pulled it out and gently slapped Mulder's ass. "Go on in the bathroom. Start the shower when you're ready."

Mulder looked startled when Skinner joined him in the shower. Skinner pulled Mulder's back against his chest and took the soap away from him. Carefully he began soaping the young man's body. Mulder closed his eyes and relaxed, enjoying the feeling of being taken care of, all decisions in some one else's hands for awhile. No need to think, no need to analyze, just feel. And Skinner slowly stroking his cock was a very nice feeling.

"Fox, I'm going to make you come," Skinner's voice said softly in his ear. "I want you to close your eyes and keep your hands at your side. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Mulder said dreamily. He spread his feet a little for balance, feeling Skinner's erection along his back, but he didn't need to worry about that right now. Skinner's hand moved up and down, skillful, knowing just how to touch him to bring him off so that in a very short time he was shaking and coming as hard as if he hadn't come in months. He lay collapsed against Skinner's chest, gasping in air, and it was incredible to feel the soft kisses against the side of his face.

"Beautiful, Fox," Skinner murmured. "You are so beautiful and so responsive."

And it was easier to murmur, "Thank you, sir," this time.

Skinner handed him the soap. "I'm very proud of you, Fox. You may wash me."

Mulder took the soap eagerly, understanding that this was a privilege, and began thoroughly soaping and rinsing every inch of that impressive body, learning its curves and contours, running a gentle finger over the white scars from many wounds over the years. Skinner watched him without comment, curiously affected by the absorbed look on Mulder's face. When Mulder had finished rinsing him, he gently pushed him down on his knees.

"Think you can handle this, Fox?" he asked indicating his erection.

"Yes, sir."

He eagerly took Skinner's cock into his mouth, careful not to go too deep this time, mimicking Skinner's own technique and adding a couple touches of his own until Skinner was rocking forward, head thrown back, coming hard. Mulder swallowed, ignoring the first protest of his throat and stomach, and found that it wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be. _Well_ , he thought in wry amusement, _my father said I was a cock-sucking faggot so I guess I'd better learn to be a good one_.

Skinner's hand was in his hair, petting it gently, and he looked up a little shyly. "Was that okay, sir?"

Skinner's eyes were enigmatic but there was a smile on his face. "Yes, Fox; that was very good." He pulled Mulder up from his knees. "Out and get dried off. "

Once out of the shower, the cuffs were refastened and, to Mulder's embarrassment, another plug was inserted, this one a little wider. Mulder was acutely uncomfortable, especially when he learned that he was expected to sit and eat brunch with the plug in. He started to grumble but caught Skinner's look and bit off what he was going to say.

After eating a surprisingly large meal for him, he found that he was incredibly sleepy. Skinner didn't seem at all surprised - but then nothing seemed to surprise him - and pushed him toward the bed.

"Get a nap, Fox. I'm going to go work out in the gym for awhile.

Mulder nodded sleepily and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep.

* * *

Mulder woke alone in the room. He stretched luxuriously in the bed, then winced a little at the feeling from the anal plug. Skinner must still be working out, he thought sleepily. He rolled over on his stomach, his face on the pillow that Skinner had slept on. The man's scent lingered on the pillow still and Mulder breathed it in deeply. Walter Skinner, his master. His lover.

The panic attack was sudden and unexpected, and Mulder sat bolt upright in the bed. Christ, what was he thinking? How could he possibly have agreed to this? And, worse than that, how could he possibly be looking forward to having Skinner's cock up his ass? He had to get out of there, his mind gibbered at him, get out fast while he could. With shaking hands, he removed the plug and the leather cuffs and scrambled into his clothes. Not stopping to tuck in his shirt or tie his laces, he grabbed his bag and almost ran to the door. He opened it - and stared right into the surprised face of Walter Skinner. Panic threatened to overwhelm him - he wanted to push past Skinner and run but the man stood squarely in the doorway.

"What in the hell is this, Mulder?" Skinner growled.

"I - I can't. I've - I've changed my mind." Mulder tried to slip around Skinner. "Please, let me go!"

"Like hell I will!" Skinner kicked the door closed, slamming Mulder against the wall, his arm like a vise across Mulder's chest.

"I don't have to stay!" Mulder snapped. "You can't make me!"

Skinner recognized the panic in the man's eyes. "I will, Mulder. You agreed to this and I'll only let you out of here under two conditions."

"Name them!"

"We go down to the Secretary and remove you from the Book. And you give me your word, your _word_ , Mulder, that you won't try this anywhere else. _Anywhere_." Hazel eyes met brown eyes for a long moment, and then Mulder closed his eyes. "You can't, can you?" Skinner said gently. "We both know that if you walk out that door you'll end up being someone else's bottom."

He moved away from Mulder, taking the precaution to lock the door. There was silence in the room for a long moment and Mulder still stood with his back against the wall, his eyes closed. Skinner sighed.

"Mulder, I know you've taken a look in that cabinet. I told you that I'm not into pain but there are others here that are. And those are the _safe_ tops. Cancerman doesn't play safe. You can't even begin to imagine what that means but _I_ can, and it scares the shit out of me. Our English friend knows the smoking bastard even better and it scared him so much that he risked losing his membership here - and God knows what out there - by contacting me. You walk out that door and you'll be putting yourself right in his hands. I can't let you do that."

"I'm an adult," Mulder whispered. "I make my own choices."

Skinner snorted. "Less often than you think."

He sighed again and ran a hand over his head, defeated. He had done what he could but Mulder was right; he couldn't stop the man, even if he thought he was making a colossal mistake.

"All right. You think about it and make up your mind. I'm going to take a shower."

Mulder stared at opposite wall for a long time. He knew that Skinner was right, and knew that he wanted - needed - this. No matter how scared it made him feel. And he remembered how safe he had felt the night before, lying in Skinner's arms. He hadn't even had a bad dream for the first time in forever. He sighed, tossed his bag onto the floor, and began to strip.

Skinner stood in the shower for a long time, wondering what he could have done differently. He tried to think of someone else he could turn Mulder over to, someone safe, but he had lost touch with his few acquaintances in the lifestyle and the only one he really trusted with Mulder had his own problems.

He turned off the water and listened, but there was only silence from the outside room. He drew in a deep breath and let it out, then briskly dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist. Might as well clear out and spend the rest of the weekend trying to figure out what to do next.

Skinner crossed the floor to the closet where he had hung up his clothes and nearly tripped over the bag lying on the floor. He looked down at it, his mind suddenly going blank. Mulder's bag. He swung around and saw the man sitting cross-legged on the bed, naked except for the cuffs.

"You stayed," he said in disbelief.

Mulder shrugged. "You were right about me. I'm one sick fuck, huh?"

Skinner smiled in relief and crossed to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going to answer that one - I'm here, too, so what does that make me?"

"A candidate for sainthood?"

Skinner said dryly, "I think the Catholic Church would argue that one with you." He reached out to gently stroke Mulder's hair. "You're not sick, Mulder. There are plenty of other people with the same needs, otherwise why this place and others like it? As long as you know why you are here and what you want."

He lifted Mulder's chin so that the young man's eyes had to meet his. "What do you want, Fox?" he asked softly. Mulder flushed, looking away, unable to ask. "It's okay. I know." He stood up. Much as he had been enjoying this slow seduction, what Mulder needed now was to be taken, to end his suspense. "On your stomach, in the middle of the bed."

Mulder obeyed and Skinner fastened his cuffs loosely to the rings at the four corners of the bed. Ordinarily, he preferred to face his lovers and didn't use restraints but he knew that Mulder needed this. Mulder needed to feel that this encounter was out of his hands, beyond his control, while still feeling safe.

"On your knees, Fox," he ordered and slid pillows under Mulder's stomach as he complied. "That's good. Okay with the restraints? You remember the safe words?" Mulder nodded. "Then just relax." He gently stroked Mulder's back, like he was quieting a skittish horse. "You're being very good. I think you deserve a reward. Would you like to come, Fox?" Gently he began stroking the younger man's cock.

"Yes, sir." A faint whisper.

"You will, but not until I tell you that you may. Do you understand me, Fox?"

"Yes, sir." Stronger this time.

"Good." He moved his hand from Mulder's cock, caressing the skin all over his body with soft fingertips, feeling the delicious shivering running through Mulder's body. He nipped at the skin on Mulder's back, ran his tongue down the spine until Mulder was breathing harder, panting. Skinner lubricated a finger and inserted it into the tight anus, heard the shuddering breath, then slowly began stroking in and out until the shuddering turned into moans. A second finger and he repeated the process until Mulder was pressing back. Skinner smiled and twisted his fingers, brushing the prostate.

"Jesus!" Mulder nearly came off the bed. "What - "

Skinner chuckled. "I just introduced you to your prostate. Relax."

"How can I relax when you're doing that?" Mulder grumbled, closing his eyes and rocking back against the invading fingers that seemed to know him so well.

"Relax or I'll stop."

Mulder turned his head to give Skinner a dirty look but refrained from commenting. Skinner took the opportunity to introduce a third finger and saw the sweat break out on Mulder's back.

"Easy, Fox, easy," he murmured, pressing his lips along Mulder's spine as his fingers moved. "Almost there." With his free hand he rolled on a condom and positioned himself behind Mulder. He pulled out his fingers, heard Mulder groan, and quickly pressed the head of his cock inside. Mulder went suddenly still and drew a sharp breath. "Breathe, Fox. Deep breaths." He felt Mulder try to follow his instructions and heard the little gasping breaths as he continued slowly pressing in, then he was fully sheathed.

He kissed the back of Mulder's neck and murmured against his ear, "No more pain, Fox, just pleasure." Slowly he moved back out and was rewarded by a soft moan, this time of pleasure. Back in, slower than slow, and he reached around to grasp Mulder's cock in his hand, stroking him in counterpoint to his slow thrusts. And Mulder was moaning under him, sounds of pleasure and need, and it was better than anything Skinner could remember.

"Beautiful," he murmured against Mulder's ear. "You're so beautiful. Such a sweet, tight ass."

Mulder groaned, feeling that this slow thrusting was driving him out of his mind, and pushed back against Skinner. "God, Walter, faster - please."

Skinner kissed the side of his neck. "Not yet, babe. You'll be sore in the morning."

"I'll be dead _now_ if you don't hurry," Mulder moaned.

Skinner chuckled and gradually increased his thrusting. At the same time he increased his stroking on Mulder's cock and felt the tightening that told him that Mulder was close. And he knew that he was close, too.

"Fox," he murmured in his ear, "you can come _now_." And he nipped the earlobe while squeezing Mulder's cock so that the younger man suddenly came violently, shaking and crying out. The tightening of the muscles around Skinner's cock triggered his own release, and he cried out as he came, then collapsed along Mulder's back.

For a long while there was no sound but the ragged sound of their breathing. Then Skinner heard a low sound coming from Mulder and his heart nearly stopped before he realized it was soft laughter.

"Fox?"

Mulder turned his face sideways and grinned. " _Shit_ , Walter."

"That better not be a comment on my technique," Skinner growled but in good-humor. He carefully withdrew and flopped down on the bed on his back. He turned his head to study Mulder's face. The young man looked tired but happy, so he slid out of bed and went into the bathroom for a washcloth. Gently he cleaned up Mulder, checking to make sure that there was no tearing, then unfastened the tethers and crawled back in bed to take the young man in his arms.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"No," Mulder murmured sleepily, snuggling his head closer into Skinner's shoulder. "I'm better than okay." And then he was asleep.

Skinner kissed the soft hair tickling his chin and tightened his hold. Maybe they'd be okay, he thought hopefully. Maybe this would work out after all. Maybe it would be enough - for both of them.


	3. Second Time Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second weekend, and Mulder meets a new friend - and an old one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Quote comes from "Can't Get Close enough to You" by Michael Bolton.

_I've got no control_ _  
You shake my soul when we touch_   
_Still I can't get close enough to you_

Skinner slid the card key into the slot and unlocked the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, uncertain about what he was going to see when he entered. It had been a week since he had first begun topping Mulder and, although that weekend had seemed to go well, he knew that the second encounter was always the hardest. Shock and novelty usually got one through the first time. Then, as days passed, doubts would rear their ugly heads and things that had seemed normal would become terrifying. And Mulder had suffered a panic attack the past weekend, one that had nearly made him bolt. Even though the sex following that had been fantastic, it had also been Mulder's first time with a man. Mulder had seemed normal enough in their Tuesday morning staff meeting, but it _did_ seem that the younger man had been avoiding him the last few days.

He opened the door and closed it behind him, then turned around. Mulder was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, cuffs in place, hair still damp from his shower, a shy smile on his face.

"Hello, sir."

Skinner allowed himself to smile. "Hello, Fox." He set down his bag and crossed to the bed, ruffling the drying hair affectionately. "I see that you are ready. Very good."

"May I undress you, sir?"

"I think I'll take a bath so start the water while I unpack. Then you may undress me."

"Yes, sir."

Skinner quickly unpacked the bag, hanging up the extra clothes he had brought and putting his shaving kit in the bathroom. He found that he was smiling to himself. Mulder was there. And it looked like he was _not_ going to be one of those subs that started each encounter by having to be retrained. Alex had been like that, he thought briefly, wanting to be forcefully put in place at the beginning of each encounter. One never knew how a sub was going to act until one had played with them for awhile, but it looked like Mulder was going to be one of the kind he liked best: mischievous, high-spirited, but eager to learn and move on to the next lesson.

Mulder undressed him quickly, carefully hanging up the suit and shirt, and Skinner couldn't resist ruffling his hair again as he bent to remove Skinner's shoes. Mulder looked up at him with a mischievous grin and Skinner wondered if he'd have to revise his earlier assessment - the young man was clearly up to something.

When he went to get in the large roman-style tub, he realized what that look was about. There were bubbles in the tub. He wanted to laugh but managed to put a stern look on his face when he turned to confront his sub.

"Bubbles, Fox?"

Mulder looked innocent. "They're very good for the skin, sir, and very relaxing. Scully swears by a bubble bath."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Scully is a woman, and women _like_ bubble baths."

"Come to think of it, I _had_ noticed there was something different about her."

Skinner snorted. "You know the old story 'That's One'?"

Mulder grinned. "Yes, sir."

"Then, that's one." He stepped into the tub and sank down gratefully into the hot water. It felt very good after the long week, and those bubbles _were_ oddly soothing. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the edge. A hand pushed at his head and he lifted it, inquiringly, to have a rolled towel placed behind his head as a cushion. Murmuring his thanks, he leaned back again.

Mulder reclined on the tile ledge behind him, trailing his hand in the water. "So what happens when you get to 'three'?"

"Hmm?"

"The story. He shoots the mule - you're not going to be that drastic, are you?"

"Don't push your luck."

Mulder chuckled and fell silent. Skinner sighed contentedly - then felt something on his scalp.

"Fox, are you putting bubbles on my head?"

Mulder grinned. "You look good with bunny ears, Walter. 'Wabbit season. Duck season - fire'"

Skinner reached up and, in one fluid movement, pulled Mulder into the tub with him.

"Hey!" Mulder laughed, spitting out bubbles. "What happened to 'two'?"

* * *

Skinner lay drowsing contentedly in the afterglow, one hand idly caressing Mulder's back. He turned his head, rubbing his chin on the silky hair still slick with bubble residue. He was vaguely aware that the sheets were damp as he had not bothered to dry himself or Mulder off when he dragged them both out of the tub to ravish Mulder.

"Walter?"

"Hmm?"

"How are you going to punish me?"

Skinner tilted his head a little so he could see the young man's face. Mulder's eyes were closed, a contented smile on his face. Was it an idle question? Did he want reassurance that Skinner wouldn't hurt him?

"I thought I just did."

"If that's punishment, I'm going to be a very bad boy. You'll need vitamins. Or Viagra."

"Brat. I'd smack your ass but I'm too sleepy and content."

Sleepy smile. "I'll remind you in the morning."

Skinner gently ran his hand over Mulder's ass. "Fox?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Dunno," he murmured sleepily. "Just wanna know what to expect."

"I'm not into pain, Fox," Skinner said softly. "I told you that. I'll never whip you or hurt you like that."

A thread of a whisper. "There are worse kinds of pain. Sometimes it's worth getting whipped to get attention."

Skinner's throat filled with tears, and he gently hugged the man in his arms. "You've got my attention, Fox. Believe me."

"Mmm." Mulder's breathing showed that he had slipped into sleep, but Skinner lay looking up into the darkness for a long time.

* * *

"Walter, I'm bored!"

Skinner looked up from the files he was going over. He studied the man sprawled on his stomach on the bed.

"Why don't you read a book?"

"Already finished the one I brought. What kind of place doesn't have a TV?"

"I think they expect their guests to be too busy for television."

"And I would be - if you didn't have your nose in your work."

"Sorry, Fox, but I've got to finish this before I go into the office Monday. I've got a meeting with the Director." Skinner thought for a moment. "Why don't you go work out? They have a full gym including a lap pool."

"Is it okay? I feel a little uncomfortable wandering around here on my own."

"Put clothes on and you'll be perfectly safe, Fox. This isn't like those clubs where Doms try to score points by stealing other subs. That bracelet shows you're taken and no one will mess with you - it's a major infraction of the rules to poach. Think of it as a chastity belt and I hold the key." Skinner's eyes twinkled at him.

Mulder considered it. "Okay. Guess I'll go swim laps." He rummaged in his bag and pulled out his Speedo and a set of sweats.

"I'll probably come down to work in the gym when I finish here," Skinner said, looking over his reports with a sigh. Mulder nodded and, to Skinner's surprise, crossed to drop a kiss on Skinner's head before leaving.

Skinner sat there for a long time after Mulder left, unable to concentrate, feeling the soft kiss. Maybe he would go down and work out for awhile - he needed the exercise, he told himself. It had nothing to do with wanting to see that cute ass in a Speedo or the vicarious thrill of seeing other men lusting after his property.

It certainly had nothing to do with falling in love with his unruly sub.

* * *

Mulder dove into the pool, enjoying the feeling of cutting through the water with sure strokes. Across the lane, flip turn, another lap back. On and on until he was pleasantly tired.

He stopped at the side of the pool and found a towel held out to him.

"Thanks." He swung himself out of the pool.

"No worries, mate." A short, wiry, red-haired man in swim trunks held out his hand. "Sean."

"Mulder." He shook hands and began toweling his hair.

"You're new here," the man said, glanced at his wrist. "What do you think of the place?"

"Very nice. You been a member long?"

"Four years. Free sub for two years, the last two with Geoffrey." He indicated his own gold bracelet.

Mulder hesitated, wanting to talk to someone about this whole situation but not wanting to transgress any unspoken rules. "This is new to me. Do you like it - belonging to someone, I mean?"

"Yeah, it's a lot better than being a free agent. Safer. And you know what the expectations are on both sides." He glanced over at the glass wall to the exercise room and grinned. "Although if I was a free agent, I wouldn't mind being worked over by that tall drink of gorgeous man that just walked in."

Mulder turned and looked and saw Skinner. He smiled, unaware that his whole face had softened. "That's Walter."

He felt sharp eyes studying him. "He's yours?"

A warm feeling flooded him and it seemed that possession was a two-way street. "Yeah."

"No wonder you have such a shit-eating grin," Sean teased and Mulder felt himself blushing. "I haven't seen him around for awhile. And never with a permanent sub."

"Guess he figures I need special attention," Mulder said with a grin.

"Too right, mate. You look like trouble with a capital T." Mulder laughed. Then a different look crossed Sean's face. "Speaking of trouble," he muttered. He jerked his head toward the man warming up by the indoor track. "That's Jason Benett. Stay clear of him."

"A top?"

"Yeah. Likes to mess with new subs who don't know the score. Take my advice and stick close to your Walter when Benett's around."

"Thanks, I'll do that." Mulder studied the man. "He's not moving too well."

"Looks like his master worked him over good."

"I thought you said he was a top."

"A lot of the Juniors are topped, either inside or outside."

"And his?"

"Definitely outside. I've seen the marks and his top is not safe. Hell, Benett is borderline - one more infraction and he's out."

"I'll stay out of his way."

"Be sure you do, boy-o. And if he tries to give you trouble, just keep your hands to yourself and call for help. All the public rooms are monitored by Security and they have his number all right. Don't try to be the he-man - you'll just get yourself into trouble and your Walter doesn't look like he'd take kindly to that."

Mulder nodded, and Sean squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, don't look so worried. Most of the other tops here are decent and know enough to leave other people's property alone." He studied Mulder closely. "You know anyone else in the lifestyle? Subs, I mean."

"One, but we're not exactly on speaking terms."

Sean said shrewdly, "Well, it can take a little getting used to. Anytime you need to talk to someone about things, you just come talk to me. I've been gay since I was a teen, in the lifestyle for six years, and here for four so I know what's what."

"Thanks," Mulder said gratefully.

"I'll walk you over to your Dom - Benett won't mess with me." Mulder nodded and draped the towel around his neck, feeling suddenly exposed in the Speedos. He followed the redhead over to where Skinner was doing bench presses.

Skinner stopped to wipe his forehead with a towel. "Finished your swim, Fox?"

Mulder nodded, then indicated his companion. "Sean's been keeping me out of trouble."

Skinner snorted but nodded to the redhead. "Thanks for the effort, Sean. Mulder here is a trouble-magnet."

"Some trouble no one deserves," Sean said cryptically, jerking his head in the direction of Benett. "Well, I'll be shoving off now. See you 'round, Mulder. Nice seeing you back here, Mountain."

Skinner wrapped the towel back around his neck, his eyes on Benett. Mulder said quietly, "I think Benett may be our man. Sean says he has a master outside, one who is not a safe player. He says Benett is on the verge of being booted."

"He'd know; his Dom is the Club's Secretary and Sean always has his ear to the ground. He's a good friend to have here." He glanced up at Mulder with a smile. "Despite popular opinion, it appears you _do_ know how to play well with others."

"Well, we both have a common interest." Mulder said and, at Skinner's inquiring look, he added mischievously, "Lusting after your body." Skinner flushed at that. "Why, Walter, you're blushing."

"It's still not too late to add spanking to the program," Skinner growled.

"Tease."

"One more word out of you, and I'll drag you upstairs and fuck you senseless."

"Please," Mulder said, teasingly, but his eyes were blazing green. Skinner fell into those passion-filled depths like a drowning man.

"Go get changed," he growled, "while I finish."

"Yes, sir."

Skinner watched Mulder saunter toward the locker room, amused by the triumphant strut. It seemed that Mulder had regained his equilibrium; time to throw him another curve, get him off balance again. Little did he realize that life was waiting with its own curve ball.

* * *

Mulder had just slipped on his sweatpants and was tying his shoes when he heard a familiar voice. "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

He affected nonchalance and continued tying his laces. "I'd be careful about cats if I were you - Ratboy." He sat up and saw Krycek leaning against the doorframe.

"I'm surprised to see you here. I didn't think you'd have the guts to go through with it."

"You've always been a bad judge of character, Krycek." Mulder was glad that he had changed out of his swimsuit already - the last thing he wanted was Krycek checking him out. He pulled the sweatshirt over his head, pushing the sleeves up deliberately to show the gold bracelet.

He heard the swift intake of breath and then Krycek was at his side, holding his wrist tightly in his hand and staring at the bracelet. "It's gold - I don't recognize the ID."

Mulder smiled mockingly. "Guess your scheme didn't work out like you planned."

"Who?" Krycek demanded, too upset to play games.

"Me." Krycek jerked around, staring at Skinner as he stood quietly in the doorway. "You got a problem with that, Krycek?"

Krycek was struck speechless for a moment then tried to recover. "Well, well. Isn't this sweet?" He looked mockingly at Mulder, still holding his wrist. "So, Mulder, did you give up climbing the ladder the usual way? Gonna suck and fuck your way to the top now?"

Skinner was across the room in an instant, his hands wrapped in the front of Krycek's shirt, lifting him off the floor. "Don't mess with him, _boy_. If you've got a problem, you come to me with it. If I even _think_ that you've been around him, I'll tear off your balls and feed them to you."

Krycek looked him straight in the eyes. "Fuck. You."

"Sorry, my dance card is full. Go talk to Cancerman if you're lonely." Skinner opened his hands and dropped Krycek. "Ready, Mulder?"

Mulder's throat was too dry from the confrontation to speak so he merely nodded. Skinner grasped his elbow and escorted him out of the locker room. In the elevator he felt the trembling in Mulder's body and gently pulled Mulder against him.

"It's okay. I'm here."

"Shit, you were right. It was a setup and I nearly stepped into it." Mulder's stomach lurched and he knew he was going to be ill.

Skinner quickly unlocked the door to their suite and stood aside as Mulder ran for the bathroom. He followed slowly, held Mulder's head while he lost his breakfast, soothingly rubbing his back until the heaving stopped. He rinsed a washcloth and filled a glass with water, handing the cup to Mulder and gently wiping his face.

"Thanks," Mulder whispered, his throat raw and his body shaking.

"It's okay, Fox," Skinner murmured softly. "I'm here."

"I know." Mulder sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back against Skinner.

"Let's get you out of here." Skinner effortlessly lifted the younger man to his feet, guiding him into the bedroom where he sat him down on the bed. He knelt to untie Mulder's shoes.

Mulder flopped on his back, eyes closed, and murmured, "I guess fucking me senseless is out of the picture now."

"Plenty of time for that later." Skinner lay down on his side next to Mulder, gently gathering the still trembling body against him. Mulder tucked up against the warm body gratefully, burying his face against Skinner's chest and breathing deeply to try to stop the shaking.

"Stupid thing to do," he muttered. "I'm acting like a baby, for Christ's sake." Skinner just held him close, rubbing his back soothingly, until the even breathing told him that Mulder had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

Mulder woke to the unique sensation of being snuggled against a warm but clothed body and found that he was lying sideways on the bed with Skinner spooned up behind him. He carefully turned within the encircling arms and studied the older man's face. He couldn't remember ever seeing Skinner this relaxed before, and thought that it made him look years younger. He hoped that it was due to him, that somehow he was giving something back to Skinner besides a warm body. Not that he expected Skinner to love him - this was a game, not a relationship.

Mulder couldn't believe how quickly his personal universe could change. Two weeks ago he had been a normal - well, nearly normal - heterosexual man who viewed his boss as necessary but an occasional nuisance. Now he was playing dominance games with that boss, and not only having sex with him but also thoroughly enjoying the sex.

And, to complicate matters, he thought that he was falling in love with Skinner. It scared him but excited him at the same time. Was it okay for a bottom to fall in love with the one topping him? Was that what made it possible to endure whatever the top chose to do to him? God, how sick am I? he thought wryly. Well, I may be sick, but at least I'm not alone. Then he thought about the next night, when he would be back at his apartment, and all the other nights between now and Friday, and he suddenly couldn't bear to lose another minute.

Mulder gently kissed Skinner, then nuzzled at his neck. "Walter," he murmured, "wake up."

Skinner tightened his hold but didn't open his eyes. "You got a problem, Fox?"

"I just don't want to waste any more time."

Skinner opened his eyes and studied Mulder seriously. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I guess I'll have to deal with this for awhile, but I'm okay."

"Good." Skinner slid his hands under Mulder's sweatshirt, caressing his back. "Because I threatened to fuck you senseless, and I'd hate for you to start thinking that I don't carry out my threats."

"Whatever you say, sir."

"God, Mulder, if I'd known this is what it takes to make you obey me, I would have started topping you years ago."

Mulder chuckled. "Do I sense a change to the Employee Relations Guide?"

"What? And give away my secret? Hell, no!" Skinner stripped off the sweatshirt and pants, caressing the sleek skin. He kissed Mulder ruthlessly until the younger man thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, then rolled him over onto his back. Skinner nipped at his neck, sucking at the spot where the shoulder joined the neck, knowing that he was leaving a mark. Then he continued his assault down Mulder's chest, teasing the nipples until they were hard nubs.

Mulder ran his hands over Skinner's back, unable to touch the skin. He plucked at the shirt. "Damn it, Walter, get this off!"

"Hush," Skinner admonished. "Put your hands behind your head and keep them there. And close your eyes."

Mulder groaned but obeyed, and Skinner pulled off his own clothes. Mulder was rampantly erect already, and he twitched when Skinner gently ran a hand down his body.

"Keep still," he said. "If you move without my telling you, I'll stop."

Mulder drew in a sharp breath, forcing his body to stillness, his whole attention focused on the sensations Skinner's hands and mouth were generating. Skinner was exploring every inch of his body, cataloging each response, slowly building the fire within Mulder. His mouth traced the line of Mulder's collarbone, and he licked his way down Mulder's chest, across the ribs and the flat stomach, back up to the taut nipples. Mulder groaned again, fighting an urge to arch up to the mouth sucking his nipples, breaking out in a sweat from the effort.

"So you _can_ follow orders," Skinner said with a chuckle. "I'm remembering this, Mulder."

"Unfair, sir," he said with a gasp.

"And your point would be-?"

"Bastard," Mulder said with feeling, and Skinner chuckled again.

Skinner's mouth moved down Mulder's abdomen, bypassing his genitals, working his way down one thigh and up the other until Mulder was nearly whimpering in need. One finger stroked down his cock and back up, and Mulder involuntarily bucked. The hand and mouth moved away.

"Sir - don't - please - " Mulder begged, forcing himself to lie still. "I'll be still. Please."

"One chance. Move again and I stop for good."

Mulder nodded, his eyes desperately clenched shut and hands locked on the headboard. He sighed with relief as Skinner's hand brushed his thigh, slid across his stomach, and gently grasped his cock. He gritted his teeth against to urge to jerk himself in that hand and was rewarded as it slid up and down on his cock.

"You like this, don't you, Fox? You like the pleasure of being stroked like this."

"Yes," he groaned. "Oh, God, yes."

"Such a beautifully responsive body," Skinner murmured, nipping at the inside of Mulder's thighs. "You were made to enjoy pleasure. Your body is so sensitive, and you're so hedonistic."

"Do I - please you, sir?" The voice was breathy, both from the effort of control and from uncertainty.

"You please me very much, Fox." There was a glistening of tears in the corners of Mulder's eyes, and Skinner wondered what that was about. He stopped his hand although he didn't remove it. "Mulder," he said in a carefully neutral voice. "Is this pushing an emotional button for you?"

"A - a little, but I'm okay."

"Do you need to talk about it, or are you able to continue?"

"Please, sir, don't stop. I'm fine. Really."

Skinner was satisfied that Mulder was okay, but decided that it was enough teasing for now. He had an idea about what had caused that reaction and reflected that with this man his words could be more powerful than his actions.

"All right. You can move now, if you need to, but keep your hands where they are and your eyes closed."

Skinner bent his head and took Mulder's cock in his mouth in one swift movement that made the younger man buck in surprise, crying out in pleasure. Skinner continued to suck and lick while his hands lifted Mulder's legs at the knees and bent them back against Mulder's chest. He released Mulder's cock, heard him moan in frustration, then Mulder hissed in pleasure as a lubed finger worked its way into him.

Skinner took his time preparing Mulder, and by the time he entered Mulder the younger man had been reduced to incoherent whimpers and pleas. He lifted Mulder's legs over his shoulders and set a steady rhythm, gratified by the way that Mulder moved with him. He increased his thrusts, slamming hard against Mulder's ass, feeling the clenching of the tight passage around his cock. Mulder's head was thrown back now, his eyes squeezed shut, noises that were not speech bubbling out of him continuously. Skinner reached down and took Mulder's cock in his hand, pumping it once, and Mulder was screaming and arching off the bed. Another slamming thrust and Skinner was coming too, buried impossibly deep and feeling that hot tight ass milking him dry.

Skinner collapsed on Mulder's chest, breathing heavily, and looked down at the younger man. Then he laughed, a little shakily. Mulder was out cold. He withdrew and collapsed next to Mulder on the bed.

Mulder floated back to consciousness from a world of black velvet and impossibly intense sensations to find himself pillowed on a muscled chest with a gentle hand stroking his back.

"Oh God…" he murmured.

The chest under him rumbled with laughter. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

"I passed out?" To his own ears his voice sounded thready, a mere whisper.

"Definitely."

"Jesus. I've never passed out before."

Another rumble from his pillow. "You're good for my ego, Fox." The hand moved up from his back to stroke his hair. "Sleep."

"Anything you say, sir."

Skinner chuckled again. "Definitely should have started this years ago. Think of the hair I could have saved." There was no answer, and he smiled as he realized that Mulder was sound asleep. Moments later, so was Skinner.

* * *

Krycek entered his room and heard a familiar voice from the darkness. "Security tells me they observed an incident between you and Mr. Skinner."

"Shit, sir, you scared me. I thought you were still in London."

A lamp came on by the window and he saw a familiar figure sitting in the armchair there. His employer, his patron, his owner. "I just arrived this evening." He gestured to the floor in front of him and Krycek obediently sank to his knees on the indicated spot. "Well?"

Krycek looked at the floor, avoiding those sharp eyes. "Skinner grabbed _me_."

"After you accosted his sub." He studied the bowed head before him, not in the least bit fooled by the meek posturing. "Alex, I have never required your sexual fidelity, but I believe I have warned you about Mr. Mulder. He is not for you."

Krycek's head snapped up, his eyes blazing as they met his master's. "You knew about this - knew that Skinner had claimed him, didn't you?"

"Knew about it?" There was humor in his voice. "My dear boy, I _arranged_ it."

"But - I met him at that other club by accident - brought him here on my own."

More amusement. "You forget how well I know you, Alex. I knew what you would do, and what our smoking friend would do when he found out. And I knew that Mr. Skinner would be unable to resist rescuing young Mulder yet again."

"So this was all an elaborate plan to get Mulder into Skinner's bed?" Krycek thought he might be violently ill at the thought. "Why? Blackmail?"

"Certainly not. I actually have the boy's well-being in mind."

"And how is being fucked by that old man good for Mulder!" Krycek demanded angrily. He didn't even try to avoid the slap.

"Control, Alex," the Well-Manicured Man said reprovingly. "You really dislike Mr. Skinner, don't you? I wonder why. Did your encounters end badly? Did he refuse to beat you as hard as you like? Did he refuse to feed that craving for punishment?"

Krycek kept his eyes focused on the ground, refusing to meet those sharp, amused eyes. "Why is this good for Mulder?" he repeated.

"The boy is incredible, unique, but lacks a certain stability and discipline. His father's mishandling nearly ruined him and our smoking friend is just as bad. Young Mulder needs more than just discipline; he needs stability and unconditional love. And, although he may not realize it yet, Walter Skinner can give him all three." He grasped Krycek's chin and tilted his head up to study that beautiful face. He had often thought that Krycek was like a hawk - wild, only partly trained to glove, a killer at heart. "And you, my amoral little friend, will keep your hands off of Fox Mulder. Or do I need to get my cane out to reinforce that order?"

Krycek shuddered, half in fear and half in anticipation. "Yes, sir. Please."

 


	4. A Test of Wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder rebels and Skinner takes action. And who is really in control?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Pleasure or Pain" by Michael Bolton.

_You pull me in, then you push me away_ __  
Ask me to leave, then you beg me to stay  
_Bend me, baby, bend me till I break_ __  
Do you really wanna know how much  
_This heart of mine can take?_

  

"You're late."

Mulder slammed the door behind him and tossed his bag on the floor. It had been a hell of a week at work. Budgets and quarterly reports had taken up most of his time, and two promising-looking X-files had been shot down - one by his partner and the other by his boss. Scully had been in a bad mood most of the week, brought on by his ducking out on her during a VCU consult. Skinner had chewed his ass out for that although Mulder had - he pointed out - written up a quick profile showing that the Unsub in the triple homicide was a disgruntled employee. Which had proved to be correct, but Skinner had not paid any attention to that. And now that same Walter Skinner was sitting in a chair across the room, arms folded across his chest, frowning at him.

"Give me a break," he snapped. "I've had a hell of a time just getting here at all."

Skinner's frown deepened but he merely said, "Get prepared. I'll order dinner."

Something inside Mulder snapped. "No."

"No - what?"

"No, _sir_."

Skinner stared at Mulder as if he had lost his mind. "What in hell is wrong with you, Mulder?"

" _You_. I'm sick to death of being pushed around, told to do this or that for no goddamned good reason. 'Go on a VCU consult, Mulder', 'Expense reports in triplicate, Mulder', 'Bend over and grab your ankles, Mulder'."

Skinner stood up slowly. "May I remind you that this was _your_ idea?"

"Well, maybe I've changed my mind."

A look came over Skinner's face that made Mulder swallow hard and break out in a cold sweat. Skinner advanced on him slowly and Mulder found himself retreating nervously.

"Too late, Mulder. You made your choice. Now I advise you to get your ass in that bathroom and get ready, or I'll make you regret the day you were born." Mulder found himself trapped between the doorjamb to the bathroom and Skinner. "Do I make myself clear, _boy_?"

"Y-yes, sir."

Skinner shifted slightly so that an escape route into the bathroom opened, and Mulder fled, shutting the door behind him. Skinner stood for a moment until he heard the shower go on, then drew a deep breath and relaxed slightly.

Well, damn, he thought to himself, running a hand over his head. He had been looking forward to a pleasant weekend's diversion, planning to introduce something new and erotic like feather-play, but it looked like he was going to have to change plans.

He wasn't too worried about Mulder's sudden rebellion - all subs went through a phase like this from time to time, testing to see where the limits were and what the consequences would be. What had momentarily thrown him was the uncanny similarity to Alex: the slender body quivering with anger, the eyes dark and defiant with challenge. There was a difference, of course. Mulder's outbursts had the flavor of a spoiled child throwing a tantrum, blowing up quickly and then penitent afterward. There had been nothing of the child in Alex; he was more like a half-tamed creature, one that had to be treated firmly and watched warily lest he turn on you.

He resolutely pushed away memories of that dark time. He was not going down that road again. It was too soon to tell what Mulder wanted and needed from him, but he was damned sure that he would find a way to curb him another way.

The bathroom door opened and Mulder came out cautiously. Skinner pointed at the table.

"Sit down and eat."

"I'm not hungry," Mulder said petulantly. Skinner gave him a look, and Mulder slunk over to the table and threw himself into the chair. He picked at his food, glaring darkly at Skinner from time to time, but not saying anything. Skinner ignored him until he was finished eating.

"Bed," Skinner said, again ignoring the dark look from Mulder. He went to the closet and pulled out a pillow and blanket, tossing it down on the floor beside the bed.

"What's that?" Mulder asked suspiciously.

"Your pillow and blanket."

"I'm sleeping on the _floor_? What am I - a pet?" Mulder demanded.

Skinner locked eyes with him. "You are whatever I say you are. This is _my_ bed. Sleeping in my bed is a privilege that you have _not_ earned tonight. Be grateful that I'm feeling generous - I don't have to give you a pillow or blanket."

"Gee, thanks," Mulder said sarcastically.

Skinner reached out and grabbed Mulder by the back of the neck, pulling him up from the chair and pushing him down on the floor. "Lay down, go to sleep, and I don't want to hear another word from you tonight. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Mulder muttered. He punched the pillow, tried to spread the blanket over himself, and lay down. The floor was cold. He got up, spread the blanket, and rolled himself up in it. Less cold but just as hard. He sighed and resolutely closed his eyes. Then he shifted to try to find a more comfortable position.

Skinner lay down in bed and turned off the light. And in the dark he smiled.

* * *

Mulder was awakened at an ungodly hour of the morning by a foot nudging his ribs.

"Up, Fox."

Mulder blinked open bleary eyes. He felt like he had gotten maybe 15 minutes of sleep on the cold, hard floor. "What?"

"It's morning, Fox. Time to get up."

Mulder pushed himself up on an elbow and blinked again. "It's _dawn_. Barely."

"Last time I checked 'dawn' was part of the morning." Skinner went into the bathroom. Mulder flopped down on his back, swore, and considered slitting his wrists.

Skinner came out of the bathroom and Mulder got up with a groan. When he came out of the bathroom, Skinner was sitting at the table, reading the paper.

"Serve breakfast, Fox."

Mulder stared at Skinner for a moment. During the past two weekends Skinner had served the meals. Had pampered him, and taken care of his needs, and let him sleep in the bed…

He blinked hard and went to the food service chute, pulling out the breakfast dishes. He set the dishes on the table and started to sit down.

"No. On the floor. Here." Skinner pointed to the floor beside his chair.

Mulder's eyes blazed and his lips tightened, but he obeyed that stern voice automatically. He hadn't eaten any dinner the night before and his stomach was growling. His back ached from sleeping on the floor and his head hurt. He wondered how long Skinner was going to treat him like this, and thought wistfully of the past weekend. A week ago he had been awakened around noon with gentle kisses and brunch in bed. Just thinking about it made him ache all over again and he sighed.

Skinner heard the sigh and folded the paper. "I'm going to take care of some business and then work out. I'll be back at lunch. You may have some breakfast and clear the table."

"Yes, sir," Mulder muttered. He waited till Skinner had left, then dragged himself to his feet, and cleared the table. He felt depressed and disoriented and needed to talk to someone. Mulder slipped on his sweats and went downstairs.

* * *

Sean opened the door of the Secretary's suite and looked surprised. "Mulder?"

"Um - you said if I needed to talk - but I don't want to bother you…"

"No bother, mate. Geoff just left for work and I'm having a bit of breakfast." He looked Mulder over critically. "You look like shit. Come in." Mulder followed him into a spacious suite and Sean gestured towards a food cart. "Hungry? Help yourself."

"Thanks." Mulder grabbed a pastry and coffee. He collapsed on the couch with a sigh. "Ah! Furniture - what a concept."

Sean grinned. "You slept on the floor last night, didn't you?"

Mulder looked over at him. "Does it show? Or are you psychic?"

"Well, now that you mention it…so what did you do to upset the Mountain?"

Mulder sighed. "What I usually do. He said something, and I was pissed and mouthed off at him."

"And what did he do?"

"He made me sleep on the floor."

Sean laughed at Mulder's indignant tone. "And?"

"Made me watch him eat breakfast."

"And?"

"And - that's it."

"What? You're whining because you had to sleep on the floor and miss your brekkie?" Sean snorted. "You're soft, Mulder. I'd better take you in hand or you'll disgrace submissives everywhere."

"Okay, so I'm out of my depth. I feel like I'm drowning here."

"Relax, mate. You're _supposed_ to do things like this. You're a sub. You're supposed to push the boundaries and he's supposed to put you in place. It's part of the game, Mulder. He knows it, too"

"So what do I do now?"

Sean shrugged. "Depends on what you want to happen. If you want a spanking, you keep pushing till you get it."

Mulder looked horrified. "No! I don't want him to spank me. I want him to be nice to me again."

"Wuss," Sean teased, grinning. "Then take yourself back upstairs and clean up. Take a nap. Order his favorite foods for lunch. And when he gets back show him what a good submissive you can be. He'll be putty in your hands. Remember, _you_ are in control."

"Me?" Mulder looked astonished.

Sean looked amused. "Of course. The bottoms are always in control. Do tops approach us? No, _we_ approach them. And _we_ decide when we want to end a contract."

Mulder looked thoughtful for a moment. "But they control the games."

"On the surface, but we have safe words to stop it. We surrender to them, and they reward us with whatever it is we need." He looked at Mulder in amusement. "What did you think this was about? Big bad Doms beating poor defenseless boys? With a _safe_ top, nothing happens that we don't want to happen."

"I - guess I never really thought about it like that," Mulder said slowly.

"What _you've_ got to figure out is what you want." Sean looked at him appraisingly. "It's early days still with you two, so it's primarily sex with some mild domination, right? What he's doing now is just showing you that you can trust him to be in control. _Your_ job is to let him know what you need so he can set up the games to take care of your needs."

Mulder looked relieved. "Then - he's not really mad at me?"

Sean sighed. "You've got it bad."

"What?"

"You're infatuated with him."

Mulder looked down at his hands. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, it's pretty common. Just - be careful, okay? Remember that this is a game, not a relationship. Don't get hurt."

Mulder looked up at him, meeting his eyes squarely. "I won't."

"Yes, you will," Sean said with a sigh. "And when you do, I'll be here to listen."

* * *

Skinner unlocked the door to the suite and entered, wondering what he would find inside. Wondered if Mulder would even be there. He had his answer when the young man popped up from the floor where he had been sitting.

"Hello, Fox," he said genially.

"Hello, sir. Lunch is ready."

"Very good." Skinner sat down at the table and Mulder removed the dishes from the warmer, setting them on the table. He then returned to his place kneeling on the floor by Skinner's chair. Skinner ate for a few minutes, observing Mulder. "You may join me at the table."

"Yes, sir." Mulder sat down and folded his hands on his lap, waiting for further instructions.

Skinner repressed a smile, seeing that Mulder was going to do just what he said and no more. "Eat. It's a very good lunch - my favorites, in fact." His eyes twinkled at Mulder. "Bribery, Fox?"

Mulder grinned at him as he helped himself to food. "Yes, sir. Is it working?"

"Perhaps. What did you do while I was gone?"

"Visited with Sean. Took a nap." He looked over at Skinner from under his eyelashes. "I wanted to be well rested."

"That's a good idea," Skinner replied blandly. "I may have some hard work for you to do this afternoon."

"I'm certain I'll be up for it, sir."

Skinner laughed. "You are a brat. Come here." He caught Mulder's hand and pulled the younger man onto his lap, Mulder's legs straddling his own.

Mulder nuzzled against Skinner's neck. "Am I forgiven?"

"Forgiven," Skinner said softly, turning Mulder's face up to kiss him.

Mulder responded eagerly, wriggling a little in Skinner's lap so that he could rub his growing erection against Skinner's groin. He felt the answering arousal and grinned. Oh, yeah, he thought with satisfaction, putty in my hands. Mr. Assistant Director Walter Skinner, just who is in control of things here now? he thought smugly.

Skinner was aware of Mulder's thoughts as they passed across his transparent face and he was amused. Ah, well, plenty of time later to take him down a peg. For now, he was going to enjoy this seduction by Fox Mulder.

Mulder unbuttoned Skinner's shirt, kissing the skin as he exposed it. His mouth slowly moved down Skinner's chest, and then he slid onto the floor between Skinner's legs. He looked up at the older man with an impish grin as he unbuckled Skinner's belt and unzipped his pants.

"Looks like you have a problem here, sir."

"I prefer to think of it as an opportunity." Skinner bit back a gasp as Mulder freed his erect cock from his pants.

Mulder nuzzled the cock in his hands, giving it tiny licks all over. "Mmm. And you know what they say about taking opportunity in both hands…"

"I should have known better than to give you an opening like that."

Mulder looked up at him through his eyelashes and grinned but didn't say anything. Instead, he ran his tongue around the head of Skinner's cock and flicked the slit with the tip of his tongue. Damn, but the man got better at this every time, Skinner thought, with all that creative intensity focused on giving him pleasure.

Mulder's mouth slid down his cock, engulfing it in one smooth move, while the tongue continued to tease. One hand encircled his cock while the other moved down to play with his balls. Skinner groaned, slumping in the chair as his head fell back. Mulder grinned and continued to suck and stroke, totally focused on the man before him. Skinner could feel the intensity of the other man's eyes on his face even through his closed eyelids. He tried to remember if anyone had ever been this focused on him and his pleasure but his brain was rapidly being turned to mush.

God! Skinner thought with another groan, how in the hell did he manage to do _that_ with his tongue? And then he was exploding with a wrenching groan, and that clever mouth was sucking him dry, and it was better than anything he thought he could remember.

Skinner lay back in the chair, trying to catch his breath and watching as Mulder cleaned him up, gently tucked him back into his pants, and looked up at him with another impish grin. Skinner reached out to stroke the soft brown hair and tugged gently. Mulder crawled back up onto his lap and kissed him.

"Very good, Fox. Now finish your lunch - you're going to need your strength."

Mulder grinned back at him. "Yes, _sir_."


	5. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully return to the office after a week in the field on an X-file. Surprises for everyone, and a reunion between sub and Dom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Missing You" by Dan Fogelberg

_Hard road I'm traveling,_  
Alone for so long  
_I'm always somewhere that I never belong_ __  
I'm moving so fast that it doesn't seem true  
_I'm getting closer but I don't know what to._ __  
Oh, if I had you beside me __  
Then I might just sleep through the night. __  
Your love is the promise that guides me  
_All of the days of my life._

 

Scully arrived in the office early on Thursday morning despite the fact that their flight had arrived late the previous night. After spending the past six days UFO hunting in the wilds of North Georgia, she was determined to get the paperwork from the case out of the way so that she could enjoy the upcoming weekend. And she was anticipating, for the first time in forever, a Saturday-night date. A date with a friend of her brother, Charlie, a naval doctor that she had met when she was at Charlie's house for a Labor Day family get-together. There was no way she was going to risk being stuck in the office doing reports.

The door was unlocked when she got there and, to her surprise, she saw that Mulder was already there, reading something in his email with a smile. He looked up, startled, when she entered.

"Scully! You're in early today." He closed his email and began sorting through open files on his desk.

"I could say the same thing," she said, hanging up her coat. "What brings you in so early?"

He shrugged. "Thought I'd get a jump on the case notes. We've got a meeting with Skinner this afternoon, and I'd like to have the case file ready for him then."

Scully sighed. "Mulder, there's no way - we've got the expense reports and - "

"Done." He handed her a folder.

Scully stared. " _You_ did the expense report? Mulder, you _never_ do the expense reports unless I threaten to tie you to your chair."

He looked a little sheepish. "Um, well, it was an easy one - I didn't lose any equipment or destroy anyone's property - and I had all the receipts, so I just decided to get it out of the way. You might want to look it over, though; make sure I got everything."

She looked at him suspiciously. "What are you up to, Mulder? What happened on this past case that you didn't tell me about?"

Mulder looked innocent. "I'm not up to anything, Scully. I just wanted to get this case wrapped up before the weekend."

"Sure," Scully said skeptically. "Wait! Your annual review is coming up, and you're trying to get on Skinner's good side." She noticed the flush on his face. "I _knew_ something was up, but it's a lost cause, Mulder. You're permanently on his bad-boy list." Mulder pointedly refrained from answering and Scully started to turn back to her own desk, then noticed something.

"Mulder, there's a bud vase on your desk."

Mulder looked at the daffodil in irritation. "I know."

"This is the - what - second time? Although the last time was a carnation."

"Yeah." Actually, it was the fourth time but he wasn't going to volunteer that information.

Scully looked amused. "Mulder, you've got a secret admirer. I assume that you don't know who's leaving you flowers."

"I have no idea, Scully," he said truthfully. He found it impossible to picture A.D. Skinner carrying a flower vase through the Hoover, which meant that Kim could have done it, but he didn't even want to consider the implications of _that_.

Scully chuckled, loving Mulder's discomfort, and sat down at her computer. In minutes she was connected to the Internet. "The on-line floral dictionary says that a daffodil means affection and welcome - someone's glad that you're back."

Mulder looked over at her sourly. "I can't tell you what it means to me to learn that."

Scully chuckled again but decided to abandon Mulder-baiting for now and start on her report.

* * *

Skinner looked up from the reports to the two agents sitting on the other side of the desk, puzzled but pleased. "Agent Scully, your report is concise and complete, as usual. As for your report, Agent Mulder, I must say that I am completely at a loss. It is relatively brief, intelligible and, as far as I can tell, you didn't make any new enemies or lose any government property which is probably unprecedented." He blandly ignored Scully's smothered laugh and Mulder's glare. "In fact, I have only one question - for you, Agent Scully."

"Yes, sir?"

"Have you checked the color of Agent Mulder's blood recently? This is obviously a clone or shape-shifter."

Scully struggled to repress a laugh. Skinner was obviously in a good mood today, which was also unusual. "Actually, no, I haven't, sir. Mulder wasn't injured on this case - "

"That makes it official," Skinner said solemnly. "It must be a clone." Scully dissolved into laughter and Skinner barely suppressed his smile.

"Yuk it up, guys," Mulder said sourly. "Don't mind _me_." That made Scully laugh even harder and Skinner had to cover his face with his hand.

"Well, if that's all, agents - "

"Actually, sir," Scully said when she had regained control of herself, "I would like to discuss opening a 302 on an unexplained phenomenon I've discovered." She was enjoying Skinner's relaxed mood and thought that this joke at Mulder's expense was too good to keep to herself.

"Yes, Agent Scully?"

"It appears that some mysterious entity is leaving flowers on Mulder's desk."

Mulder watched in amusement as Skinner froze. He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and prepared to watch Skinner get out of this one.

Skinner cleared his throat. "Indeed, Agent Scully?"

"Yes, sir. It appears we may have a ghost in the basement."

"A ghost? Is that your - er - scientific opinion?" He picked up his coffee cup to avoid looking at either agent.

Scully nodded solemnly. "It's the only explanation that fits. Can't be a girlfriend - everyone knows Mulder hasn't gotten laid since the Bush administration."

Skinner choked on his coffee. "Uh - really, Agent Scully, I don't think - "

"And yet for the past two weeks there has been a flower left on Mulder's desk."

"Four," Mulder interrupted, his eyes gleaming at Skinner. "And I don't see this ending any time soon."

"Must be difficult to be the target of some unidentified person's obsession," Skinner observed.

Mulder nodded solemnly. "It's been hell."

Scully went off into whoops of laughter at this and totally missed the amused and affectionate look directed at Mulder by Skinner. Mulder smiled back, then gathered his file and his partner and headed for the door.

"Agent Mulder."

He paused in the doorway and turned back slightly. "Sir?"

"It's good to have both of you back."

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

" _Flowers_ , Walter?"

Skinner propped himself up on one elbow and smiled down at Mulder's face. "You want to talk about flowers at a time like this?"

Mulder leaned up to kiss Skinner briefly. "Why not?"

"Because I can think of other things I'd rather be talking about." Skinner kissed him hard. "I missed you, brat."

"I noticed. You think we can move this to the bed now? I've got some serious rug burns on my ass."

Skinner chuckled and pushed himself to his feet, giving Mulder a hand up. "Have you eaten, by the way?"

"Have you noticed that you're obsessed by food?" He crawled up on the bed, an enticing sight, and Skinner pounced.

"I'm not obsessed," Skinner said, pinning Mulder as they wrestled. "Just trying to get some padding on these sharp hip bones of yours."

"What? And destroy my anorexic charm?" Mulder rolled, pinning Skinner momentarily.

Skinner stopped wrestling, his hold tightening around Mulder. "That's not funny and you know it."

"Shit, Walter," Mulder said crossly, pulling away and sitting up. "I'm not anorexic. Or bulimic. I don't _make_ myself throw up. It's just my body's reaction to stress."

Skinner reached out to gently stroke Mulder's back, which was the only part of Mulder that he could reach. "Have you talked to a doctor about it?"

"Medical or psychiatric?"

"Either. Both."

Mulder shrugged. "Other than stuffing my body with drugs, there's not much they can do. Walter, I do _not_ want to talk about this tonight."

"Fox, part of my job as your top is to keep you safe and make sure you're healthy enough to play the games."

"I'm _fine_ , Walter."

"Really-fine or Scully-fine?"

Mulder turned and his eyes met Skinner's for a long moment, then he sighed. "All right. You win. No, I didn't eat before I came here. Yes, I'll eat whatever you want to order. Satisfied?"

Skinner reached out to pull his head down for a gentle kiss. "No. But it'll do for now."


	6. Solo Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder is on his own at the Club when Skinner's flight home is delayed, and he runs into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Xanthe, the hints in here about Skinner's former top are for you. See what feedback will get you, guys? Chapter quote comes from "Missing You" by Dan Fogelberg. The texts referred to are "Jane Eyre" by Bronte and "Twelfth Night" by Shakespeare.

_This life I'm living's getting so hard to feel_ _  
The days are empty and the nights are unreal_ _  
Oh, if I had you beside me_ _  
Then I might just sleep through the night._ _  
Your love is the promise that guides me_   
_All of the days of my life._

Mulder had just entered the suite when the phone rang, and he dropped his bag on the bed to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Mulder, this is the front desk. We're switching a call through for you."

Mulder waited and a familiar voice came on. "Fox?"

"Walter? Where are you?"

"I'm stuck in Omaha - bad weather. The earliest they say we'll be able to get out is tomorrow morning. I'll be there around noon."

"Oh." Mulder fought down disappointment. "You'll be tired when you get in. Want to cancel this weekend?"

"Not unless you do. I'll make it up to you - run home and get a spare suit and we'll stay till Monday morning. How's that sound?"

Mulder laughed. "Must be fate - I just picked up my dry-cleaning. I've got a spare suit in the car."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow around noon, then." There was a pause. "Did you eat yet? Never mind - I know the answer to that one. Order some dinner and _eat_ , Fox."

"Yes, Mother."

There was a chuckle on the phone. "I guess distance makes the sub grow cheekier."

"Hey, I thought you liked my cheeks."

"Cut it out, Fox," Skinner growled good-naturedly. "I'm in the middle of an airport, for God's sake."

"Then I guess I don't need to ask what you're wearing," Mulder teased. "I, on the other hand, am lying on the bed, naked and waiting for you."

Skinner groaned. "You're killing me."

"Then I guess you should try to get here sooner."

"Hang up the phone, Fox. Then go eat. You're going to need your strength."

Mulder laughed and hung up, feeling oddly euphoric for a man who had been stood up, if temporarily. He whistled tunelessly as he fetched an extra suit from the car, changed from his suit to sweats, then ate a sandwich in bed while he caught up on some light reading. Feeling relaxed and mildly happy, he drifted to sleep.

So there was no apparent reason why he should wake up hours later to the sound of his own screams.

* * *

Mulder splashed cold water on his face then stood leaning on the sink for a long time. He was shaking all over still and there was no way that he was going to get any more sleep that night. He padded back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. Five a.m. - hours to kill and not even a TV for distraction. He contemplated going back to his apartment for a couple hours, but it seemed like a waste of time and energy - and what if Skinner got back early? He sighed and decided to go down to the gym.

The locker room was empty but he was not surprised - at this time on a Saturday all good little sadomasochists were tied in their beds. He stripped and changed into his Speedo, stashing his clothes in a locker. As he was closing the locker door, the metal edge caught on his wrist and, with a snap, his bracelet fell to the floor.

"Damn," muttered Mulder, picking up the bracelet and studying it. The clasp was broken. He sighed and tucked it into his locker, then grabbed a towel and headed for the pool.

After swimming laps for an hour, Mulder felt invigorated and pleasantly tired. He was drying himself off in the locker room when he heard someone enter and he glanced up, then quickly ducked back down on the bench. Shit! Benett.

"You - boy. Did you see anyone else in here during the last hour?"

"No, sir, but I was in the pool." Mulder pulled on his sweat pants and felt a little less exposed.

"Come here, boy." Reluctantly, Mulder crossed to stand in front of Benett, looking down at the ground. "What is your name?"

Damn! Mulder wasn't about to tell Benett his real name, and desperately tried to think of another name but all he could think of was Skinner's joking list of names. "My master calls me - 'Kitten', sir."

Benett picked up Mulder's wrist. "You aren't wearing a bracelet, boy. I think you're lying to me."

"I'm not lying, sir. The bracelet broke. It's in my locker - "

"Talking back, boy?" Benett slammed him against the wall of lockers, knocking the breath out of Mulder. "Do you know what I do to insolent liars, boy?" He pulled his belt free of his pants and Mulder's eyes widened.

"Shit!" Mulder dropped to the floor and rolled out of reach, then jumped to his feet and sprinted toward the door. Benett intercepted him, wrestling him to the floor and holding him down with one knee in his back.

"Kitten?" Benett snarled. "You’re a damned alley cat, and I think your claws need cutting." He grabbed the waistband of Mulder's sweat pants and began hauling them down.

Mulder fought back desperately, unsure if he was facing rape or a whipping, but not keen on either one. He bucked, throwing Benett, then rolled and kicked hard, and caught Benett in the stomach. Then he scrambled to the other side of the benches, watching warily as Benett staggered to his feet, swearing.  Benett was between him and the doors to the outside, and he assessed his chances of getting past Benett.

The outer door suddenly slammed open and a security guard ran in with the Secretary on his heels.

"What in the hell is going on?" roared the Secretary. Mulder blinked; that roar reminded him of Skinner and he wondered if all Seniors learned to do that.

Benett was still trying to catch his breath and snarled, "This boy attacked me!"

"It was self-defense," Mulder said quickly.

"He was being insolent and he lied to me. I was attempting to punish him when he attacked me."

The Secretary frowned. "He has a master and it is his place to punish his sub."

"He is not marked."

The Secretary turned to study Mulder. "Mr. Mulder, where is your bracelet?"

Mulder saw Benett's ears prick up as the Secretary called him by name and he sighed.  So much for maintaining his anonymity. "In my locker, sir. It broke while I was changing."

"Bring it here." Mulder obeyed, flinching as he had to come within arms' reach of Benett. The Secretary studied the bracelet. "He is telling the truth, Benett. You may leave this matter in my hands."

Benett took a step closer to Mulder, and Mulder met his eyes unflinchingly. "This isn't finished, _Kitten_."

Mulder drew a sigh of relief as Benett left, but it seemed that his relief was short-lived at the Secretary turned cold blue eyes on him.

"Mr. Mulder," the Secretary said sternly, "you are fortunate that we monitor these rooms and that Mr. Benett is on our short list."

"Yes, sir," Mulder said gratefully. "I appreciate the rescue."

"Did Mr. Skinner not warn you about wearing this bracelet at all times?" The Secretary stepped closer to him and Mulder swallowed convulsively, instinctively backing up.

"Yes, sir, he did. I thought I'd be safe - I was just swimming laps and then going back to my room. There wasn't anyone else around. I'm sorry, sir."

"Next time - and I have a feeling that with you there _will_ be a next time - come to the office _immediately_." Mulder found his back pressed up against the lockers. "Do you understand me, Mr. Mulder?"

"Yes, sir," Mulder said faintly.

"Very well. I will have this bracelet repaired. Wilkins, call Mr. Skinner's room and request that he come down to fetch Mr. Mulder."

Mulder was suddenly glad that Skinner wasn't there. "Sir - he's not here yet. He'll be arriving later today."

"I'll watch out for Mulder, Geoff." Mulder was glad to see Sean in the doorway. "He'll be safe with me."

The Secretary looked at Sean, then back at Mulder, and Mulder swallowed hard at the look in his eyes. "Make sure that Mr. Mulder gets back to his room safely, Sean. I don't want brawls breaking out all over the Club because of him."

"Yes, Geoffrey."

The Secretary swept out of the room with the security guard in his wake and Mulder wilted, sliding down the lockers to sit weakly on the floor. Sean was at his side in a minute.

"You okay, Mulder?"

"Yeah. Just a little shaken. Damn." He drew a deep breath. "Why do I get the feeling that the more dangerous of those two tops just left?"

Sean grinned. "Sometimes it's not the noise and fury but the delivery behind them. Come on - you look like you could use a cup of coffee."

Mulder accepted the hand up. "Thanks, but I'm not exactly dressed for dining. I'll order something in my room."

"Come on, mate," Sean said. "I have friends in the right places."

Mulder reluctantly followed Sean but figured that he had no other choice. Sean clearly had his own agenda and Mulder wasn't about to go walking around alone; whether he was more worried about running into another top like Benett or running into the Secretary was debatable.

Sean entered the back door to the kitchen, and a flurry of activity and a cacophony of noise assailed Mulder. It sounded as if everyone in the room was talking at the top of their lungs but Sean didn't seem phased. He let out a shrill whistle. "Jean-Pierre!"

A short, stocky man with a permanently exasperated look on his face looked up and became even more exasperated. "Sean! You wretched brat, what are you doing in my kitchen - you know how busy I am at this hour!"

"Be nice, Jean-Pierre. I brought a friend, and he's had a rough morning. Benett."

"Ah." Jean-Pierre nodded knowingly. He wiped his hands on his apron and held out one for Mulder to shake. "You have my sympathy, little one - you are not his boy?"

"No, Mulder belongs to the Mountain - Walter Skinner."

"Ah." Jean-Pierre smiled broadly. "Then you are the young man whose appetite we must tempt. You like pastries?"

"Yes - "

"Wait here." He disappeared into the midst of the confusion, and Mulder looked questioningly at Sean.

"Jean-Pierre is a genius at remembering people and their food," Sean said with a grin. "And a hell of a good cook."

Jean-Pierre returned a few minutes later, followed by an underling pushing a cart. "Rober' has a little something for you two to nibble on - now out with you." He dove back into the chaos, and Sean led the way down the hall to a room that looked like a library out of a Gentlemen's club.

"Just leave the cart, Robert," Sean said, and poured two cups of coffee. Something smelled good and Mulder suddenly realized that he was very hungry. He began lifting covers to investigate, and found plates of eggs Benedict, sausage, bacon, and assorted pastries that Scully would have claimed screamed "major calories". In fact, she would have condemned the whole cart as a heart attack waiting to happen. He loved it.

Sean grinned. "Don't tell me you've never had Jean-Pierre's famous breakfast pastries?"

Mulder shrugged. "I rarely eat anything before lunch when I'm here. I'm usually still asleep. Or something."

"And I'll bet it's 'or something' more than sleeping," Sean teased. "Ah! Young love."

Mulder ignored him pointedly, settling down with a plate of goodies and his coffee. He looked around with interest. "I didn't know that there was a library here."

"Well, if you'd get out of bed every now and then - " Sean laughed as Mulder fired a pillow at him. "Easy, mate! I surrender!"

"You know, you're a puzzle, Sean," Mulder said, pretending to examine a cruller while studying Sean from under his lashes. "There's the accent, which is sometimes Australian and sometimes - when you forget to throw in the 'mates' and 'no worries' - not quite British and not quite American. Then there's the fact that you always seem to be hovering around the place. Just who and what are you, Sean?"

Sean smiled and closed his eyes for a moment. "You have a keen ear, Mulder. All right, I'll come clean. I _am_ Australian, but more of the Public School variety than the Crocodile Dundee type. I had a private university education here in the States and decided to stay. Satisfied?"

"So what do you do?"

Sean shrugged. "Just what you see. I live here. I spend a few hours on my computer in my suite managing the company that my father left me - it actually manages itself and I send out memos just to remind people that I'm alive. The rest of the time I spend around the Club."

"Don't you ever get bored?"

Sean smiled mischievously. "Never. There's always something happening. And I have a lot of friends among the subbies, like you. They come talk to me, tell Uncle Sean their troubles, get my advice. I like it - it suits me." Then he grinned at Mulder, the irrepressible sub again. "Now eat your breakfast before Geoff comes looking for me and finds us both. If you think his bark is tough, mate, you should just try his bite."

"No, thanks." Mulder shuddered. "I imagine that Walter will be taking his own bite out of my ass when he finds out about this."

"Mulder, I have just one question."

"What?"

" _Kitten_?"

"You don't want to know."

* * *

Skinner unlocked the door to the suite and set his suitcase down with a sigh. It had been a long morning and he had not slept well the night before, unable to banish certain images from his mind. And there was the cause of those images, sprawled asleep on the bed, the picture of innocence. He smiled and crossed to the bed, sitting on the side and studying the sleeping man. Obviously he was not the only one who had had a bad night and, although he wished that it had been for similar reasons, he had a feeling that Mulder's sleep had been disturbed by nightmares. There had been a few times over the past five weekends that he had been awakened by Mulder's writhing in the grip of a nightmare, had cradled the younger man against him and felt him slip back into dreamless sleep.

He watched Mulder sleep, thinking how strange it was that you could work with someone for five years and still not know them. When Skinner had agreed to this contract six weeks ago, he had not anticipated how much he would come to enjoy these encounters. Mulder had turned out to be far different than he had expected. Over the years, he had admired and respected the man for his intelligence and integrity, and had been driven to anger and exasperation by his actions. He had expected their encounters to contain power clashes, to have to force Mulder's submission. And he had expected Mulder to resist or be appalled at the sexual aspects of the D/s games.

But out of the office, Mulder had transformed into a submissive who was a delight to play with. He offered his submission easily with the air of a gift freely given. He required little training, absorbing new lessons eagerly with little need for discipline or retraining. There had been that one incident but, Skinner admitted, that had been partially his fault for not reading the man better - Mulder had entered the suite after a bad week, still in "mundane" mode, and Skinner had jumped him instead of allowing him time to decompress and switch modes. And Mulder had responded well to the subsequent discipline, Skinner thought, remembering the resultant blowjob fondly. As for the sex - Mulder had turned out to be a pleasurable bedmate: eager, physically responsive, and so incredibly sexy that Skinner found himself responding more intensely than he had in years.

So why the sudden disquieting feeling inside? Why did he suddenly wonder if Mulder would respond this way to anyone topping him, or if this was his personal response to Skinner? When he had been active in the lifestyle he had played with many subs, had enjoyed their games, had parted from them with little regret, and had certainly not felt a clench in his gut at the thought of his former subs with another Dom. When he had been a Junior, he had felt affection for his top - and a healthy dose of fear - but certainly nothing this intense on either side. Even with Alex, he had felt regret and sadness at ending their encounters and had been hurt by Krycek's subsequent betrayal, but nothing more.

So what was the difference between then and now? Why did the mere idea of Mulder responding to another top as he did to Skinner fill him with murderous impulses?

The answer to that question was so obvious that Skinner found himself standing in a cold shower saying angrily to himself, "I will _not_ fall in love with Fox Mulder." He repeated the mantra over and over to himself until his body, at least, believed it even if his head didn't. He turned up the hot water and began washing himself down quickly.

The shower door opened and sleepy hazel eyes peered in. "Hi. I didn't hear you come in."

"I was trying to be quiet so you could sleep." His tone was short and sharp, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself. Mulder's eyes widened a little but he nodded and stepped into the shower, closing the door.

Mulder looked at Skinner quizzically. By now he should have had at least a hug and kiss, but Skinner _did_ look tired. "May I wash you, sir?"

"No," Skinner said shortly, hating himself for the momentary pain he saw cross Mulder's face. He pulled Mulder against him abruptly, his mouth hard and bruising on the younger man's, his hands moving over the slender body demandingly. He felt the response, tasted blood from a cut lip, and suddenly became angry.

Turning Mulder around and pushing him against the shower wall, Skinner roughly prepared him and pushed his way in. He heard the slight sobbing breath, bit an earlobe and growled, "Don't come!" Closing his eyes, concentrating on his own pleasure, he thrust hard into the docile body in his arms until, with a shuddering grunt, he came.

Skinner collapsed against Mulder's back, disgusted with himself. The man in his arms was tense but quiet, and Skinner knew that he should do something to reassure and relieve Mulder. The anger was gone and all that was left was the appalling certainty that he had betrayed the man's trust in him. He suddenly needed to get away. Gently, he kissed the side of Mulder's neck and withdrew.

"Wash up, Fox. I'll order lunch."

Mulder stood leaning against the shower wall for a long moment after Skinner had left, shaken and uncertain as to what had happened. Skinner had always been so gentle with him, so careful, and had never left him unsatisfied. This time he had acted like a complete stranger, his touch and kisses rough, using Mulder's body and then discarding him. Mulder bit back a sob and, picking up the soap, turned into the water and began washing himself.

The nakedness on his right wrist suddenly made him think. Of course! Skinner had heard from the Secretary about the broken bracelet, about Benett. He had warned Mulder not to go anywhere without the bracelet, Mulder had not listened, and now he had shown Mulder exactly the sort of treatment he could expect from unscrupulous tops - like Benett. He drew in a shaking breath but his hands were steadier as he finished washing himself and turned off the water. He dried himself off, fastened on his cuffs, and went into the outer room.

Skinner was sitting in one of the armchairs, wrapped in a robe, staring at nothing. Mulder crossed to sit on the floor beside him, leaning slightly against Skinner's legs.

"I'm sorry, sir," Mulder said softly. "I didn't take off the bracelet. It broke. But I should have gone to the Secretary right away."

The words penetrated Skinner's self-loathing, and he looked down at the head resting trustingly against his legs. "What?"

"I don't know how much he told you, but he didn't hurt me."

"Who? The Secretary?"

"No. Benett."

Skinner drew in a deep breath, laid his hand on Mulder's head, and said, "You'd better tell me the whole story from the beginning."

Mulder did so, starting with waking from a nightmare, telling him how the bracelet snagged and he had put it in his locker. He told him how Benett had approached him, how he had fought him off, and the Secretary's arrival with security.

"You fought off another top? Why?"

Mulder looked up at Skinner, surprised, and had another flash of insight. Had Skinner thought that he deliberately took off the bracelet, that Mulder was playing around? "I belong to you," Mulder said, firmly to dispel any doubts Skinner might have. "No one else tops me, here or anywhere. My body, my soul are yours alone."

Hope blazed to life inside Skinner. "And if I end this and send you away?"

"Then I will build a willow cabin outside your front gate," Mulder said promptly, then grinned. "Well, I would if you _had_ a front gate. And I think your apartment management might object to my building unauthorized structures on their property. But it's the thought that counts."

"Casting me in the role of Mr. Rochester?" Skinner smiled. "Shall I call you 'Jane'?"

"I might have to bite you, sir." Mulder grinned at Skinner's snort of laughter. "I was actually thinking of Viola's speech in 'Twelfth Night'. Though you _do_ make a better Rochester than an Olivia."

"You are an insolent brat, Fox," Skinner said affectionately, tousling his hair, sudden relief making him feel light-hearted.

"Yes, but I am _your_ insolent brat. Aren't I, sir?"

Skinner pulled Mulder up onto his lap. "Yes. You are _mine_."

He kissed Mulder gently, thoroughly, feeling the eager response. He caressed Mulder's skin, marveling anew at the sleekness over hard muscle, so different from his own body. Mulder groaned, dropping his head back to expose his neck to Skinner's mouth, and he moved in to nip at his favorite spots: the side of the neck joining the shoulder, the base of the throat, and just below the ear. Mulder moaned and squirmed in his lap, and he could feel the response in his groin. He bent his head to tease a nipple, heard the gasping pleas, and willingly gave in.

"Bed," he growled, and Mulder practically sprinted to the bed. The look in the younger man's eyes as Skinner settled down next to Mulder reassured Skinner - Mulder wanted _him_. As his top, as his Dom, as his lover - it didn't matter, because he knew that look was exclusively for him. And if this was all there would ever be for them, this oasis of time and space in their real lives, then it would have to be enough. He would make it be enough, make it burn bright enough to light all the lonely nights in between.

Skinner made love to Mulder slowly, sensuously, in apology for his earlier roughness. He fastened a cock ring on Mulder to prevent his climax and then concentrated on building his sub's arousal. Every gasp and groan, every sigh and moan from the younger man was music to his ears and balm to his soul. Mulder was drenched with sweat by the time Skinner pushed back his legs. He was relieved to see that, although the anal area was sore, there had been no tearing and set himself to prepare Mulder thoroughly this time. Before long, he had Mulder begging incoherently as he mindlessly worked himself on Skinner's fingers. Skinner slicked his cock and moved into place, lifting Mulder's legs over his shoulders. He leaned down to capture Mulder's wrists with his hands, his cock barely pressing against Mulder.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked, his eyes locked on Mulder's. Those eyes suddenly blazed with a green fire that burned clear through Skinner's heart to his soul.

"You. I belong to you."

Skinner pushed in with one steady thrust, relishing Mulder's welcoming cry, and then began moving in a steady rhythm. "God, Fox, you are so sweet, so tight and hot."

Mulder was already rocking to meet his thrusts. "Please…harder…oh, god…" Skinner reached down to remove the cock ring and Mulder was suddenly arching off the bed with a scream as he came hard. Skinner groaned as the intensity of Mulder's climax triggered his own, and it was so strong that he thought he would die right there but, God! it was worth it.

He managed to keep enough presence of mind to pull out of Mulder, then collapsed on the bed beside him and gathered the younger man into his arms. Mulder was still gasping and shaking from the force of his climax, and Skinner smiled as he cuddled and stroked the seal-soft skin. The hell with the future, with his doubts, with both their insecurities. Heaven was in his arms right now, and he intended to hold onto it as long as he could.


	7. Friday the Thirteenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has a memorable Friday the 13th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Pleasure or Pain" by Michael Bolton

_You make me smile_  
_Make me thankful that I breathe_ _  
Let me taste some heaven_  
_Before you drop me to my knees_ _  
You chain me baby, till it's time to set me free_  
_Give me everything I want_   
_Give me nothing that I need_

 

"Fox, don't take this wrong but - you look like shit."

Mulder closed the door behind him, eyed his Dom lying stretched out on the bed with disfavor, and gave him the one-finger salute. "You know, that's what I like best about this relationship - the esteem-building and support."

Skinner chuckled and folded his hands behind his head, letting the sarcastic remarks slide. He had learned that Mulder needed some time to shift from "everyday" mode to "sub" mode. Generally Mulder's arrival thirty minutes before Skinner gave him that time, but on those rare occasions when Mulder arrived late, Skinner had accepted that Mulder's smart-ass attitude would still be in gear.

"Well, I'd give you a supportive hug but I believe the Surgeon General has declared that suit to be hazardous to _anyone's_ health. What happened to you?"

"What _didn't_ happen to me?" Mulder said sourly.

It had started when his alarm clock - for whatever arcane reason - had decided not to go off that morning. He had awakened - late - and jumped into the shower. Halfway through the shower the hot water had suddenly cut out and orbiting satellites could have picked up his subsequent scream. He had been forced to finishing rinsing off soap and shampoo in frigid water. A traffic tie-up on the Beltway caused by the bad weather had made him even later for work, and he had had to slip into the meeting of Unit heads late, attracting unwanted attention. The day had only gotten worse when Scully had taken him out to lunch and the waitress had dumped an entire plate of fettuccine on his lap, ruining his suit. Then, the final insult, his car had developed a flat tire on his way to the Club and, while changing the tire in the rain, he had ripped the knee of his suit pants.

"It's Friday the 13th - I should have stayed in bed."

Skinner sat up, grinning. "Don't tell me that you're superstitious."

"Days like today could make me that way."

"Tell you what," Skinner said, helping him take off his suit coat. "You get a shower and change into something less fragrant, and I'll take you downstairs for dinner."

Mulder looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

Skinner looked at him in mock surprise. "It's our two-month anniversary - I thought we'd celebrate."

"I never pegged you for the sentimental type, Walter," Mulder said with a grin. "Give me fifteen minutes." Restored to good humor, he headed into the bathroom whistling.

Skinner made sure that Mulder was in the shower, then picked up the phone. "He's here. We'll be down in about twenty minutes. Is everything ready? Good."

Mulder showered and shaved, feeling a bubble of pleasure inside. This was the first time since their initial meeting that they had gone out for dinner together and, even though it was just downstairs, he was looking forward to it. He buttoned on a fresh dress shirt and slipped on his spare suit pants, then headed downstairs with Skinner. The headwaiter led them to their table where a bottle of champagne was already chilling. Mulder smiled at the sight of it.

"Champagne, Walter?"

"What's a celebration without champagne?"

Mulder pulled out his chair and started to sit down then realized that there was a box on his chair. A gift-wrapped box. "What is this?"

"I think its technical term is a present, Fox. Happy Birthday."

Mulder picked up the box with hands that shook slightly and sat down, putting it on his lap. "I - how - " He cleared his throat. "How did you know? I never told you when it was and I know Scully wouldn't."

"You forget - I have access to your personnel file." Skinner grinned and poured the champagne. "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

"Sure." Mulder ran his fingertips over the box, trying to keep his breathing regular. It had been a long time since he had gotten a real birthday present. At home, after Samantha's disappearance, birthdays and the holidays had been just one more reminder of her loss. He had pretended not to care when they stopped celebrating, had accepted the envelope with a check inside diffidently, agreeing that it was more practical. He had pretended during his six-year partnership with Scully that he disliked the fuss of a real birthday celebration so they had developed a tradition of taking the other person out for lunch and giving each other a small novelty present. He should have known that the man sitting across from him wouldn't let him get away with any pretense. He caressed the box as gently as if it were made of a rare and precious material, and with all the apprehension of a man holding a ticking bomb.

"Fox, it's going to be your next birthday before you get that open," Skinner teased.

Mulder took a deep breath and ripped off the paper, then opened the box and stared in surprise at the contents. It was a leather collar, designed to be decorative instead of functional. He picked it up, stroking the soft leather, admiring the intricate tooling, and read the metal tag. On one side it said 'Fox' and on the other side it said 'I belong to Walter'. Those four words echoed in his head and warmed his heart. And in his head he heard the echo of other words - Skinner's words on their first weekend - "Collars are earned, Mulder." He swallowed hard and looked up at Skinner with a growing smile.

"It's beautiful. Can I - is it okay if I put it on now?"

Skinner chuckled. "Of course. I'll fasten it for you." He got up and stood behind Mulder to buckle the collar, then bent to softly kiss Mulder's cheek. "Happy birthday, Fox." Then he murmured in Mulder's ear, "I'll give you the rest of your present upstairs. _After_ you eat."

Mulder laughed softly. "Am I going to need my strength, sir?"

"Definitely."

* * *

Skinner unlocked the door to their suite and looked over at Mulder, leaning against the wall, humming. He had never seen Mulder intoxicated before, even as slightly sprung as he was now, and Skinner found it amusing. Mulder followed him into the suite and Skinner suddenly found that he had a warm and amorous armful. He chuckled and allowed a brief kiss before he gently pushed away.

"Now, Fox, I've got plans for you," he said as Mulder protested. "Go in the bathroom and wait while I finish my preparations. Don't get undressed - I want to do that."

"You can do that now - " Mulder said, trying to snuggle back up to Skinner.

"Patience is a virtue, Fox. It'll be worth it - trust me."

Mulder sighed but went into the bathroom, anticipation starting to make him tingle. Skinner usually didn't go for complicated scenes but the two times he had done so in the past had been interesting and very erotic. He relieved himself, washed up, and paced while waiting and listening to interesting noises from outside. Finally Skinner knocked on the door.

"You can come out now."

Mulder opened the door and went into the main room, then grinned. "When did the circus come to town?"

Skinner chuckled and surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction. Suspended by chains from three built-in hooks in the ceiling was a web sling. He had dimmed the lights as well which made the triangular hammock-like object look like it was floating in the semi-darkness. Mulder studied the sling with some trepidation.

"What is this thing for?"

"For you, of course." The seat was a little below waist-high and Skinner patted it invitingly.

"Are you sure about this, sir? Given my luck today, this'll probably kill me."

"Trust me." Skinner took Mulder into his arms, kissing him slowly and thoroughly. When he released Mulder's mouth, the younger man dropped his head weakly on Skinner's shoulder.

"Whatever you want - just do it."

"I intend to." Skinner began unbuttoning Mulder's shirt. "But first I have to get you out of these." He slid the shirt off Mulder's shoulders, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing pants and briefs down. "Mmm - very nice," he teased, grasping Mulder's half-erect cock. "Is this for me?"

Mulder threw back his head, groaning as Skinner slowly stroked him. "God - yes - only for you."

"Good." Skinner knelt to finish pulling off shoes and socks, stripped off the pants, and slowly ran his hands over Mulder's body as he stood up. Then he took Mulder's hand and gently tugged. "Come here." He settled Mulder into the sling. "Just like sitting on a swing - relax and lean back a little."

Mulder shifted into a more comfortable position and found that the sling was similar to a hammock except with wide webbing instead of rope, and was triangular instead of rectangular. The webbing was oddly comfortable, molding slightly to fit his body.

"Now these aren't your normal cuffs," Skinner said in a quietly soothing tone as he efficiently strapped first one wrist and then the other to the webbing above Mulder's head at one point of the triangle. "These are quick-release cuffs. Any sign of trouble or discomfort, just say your safe word and I'll have you down in a second."

Mulder nodded, feeling his heart rate quicken but in a pleasurable way. Skinner had been working over the past weekends at extending the length of time that Mulder could remain bound before the young man began to get anxious. Mulder drew in deep relaxing breaths as he had learned to do and felt himself begin to drift with the sensations.

"Now the ankles." Skinner lifted his right leg and attached the cuff, then the left so that Mulder was spread-eagled on the sling, his cuffed hands and feet forming the three points of the triangle. "Okay, Fox?" Mulder nodded. "I'm going to blindfold you so that you can concentrate on the sensations."

Once Mulder was blindfolded, Skinner moved around the sling, making sure that his sub was comfortable and secure, keeping one hand on Mulder as he did so for reassurance. Mulder relaxed and let himself drift, feeling again the delightful shock of knowing himself to be totally helpless in the hands of the one person he totally trusted. A sense of peace and tranquillity came over him as he gently rocked in the sling, a sense that he was relieved of all responsibility. He was floating in a warm darkness, weightless, just pure sensation.

Skinner began by gently stroking his skin, lightly massaging a faintly fragrant oil into his skin, covering the front of his body and then shifting under the sling to attend to his back. Mulder felt as if all his skin was tingling, all his nerve endings awake and aware. And then Skinner's hands became more demanding, palms rolling over his nipples and teasing them into hard points. Mulder groaned, arching up against the unseen hands. Then those hands were moving down his body, stroking his skin, teasingly running over his groin, down his legs to his feet and up the backsides of his legs.

The hands caressed his ass, fingers teasingly circling his anal opening, before moving away. Mulder bit back a groan at the loss of those skilled hands but lips and a tongue that began again at his nipples swiftly replaced them. The sensitized nubs were sucked into that hot mouth one after the other, toyed with while Mulder arched and whimpered in need. Skinner's mouth moved down across Mulder's flat stomach, nipping at the skin, while firm hands slid between Mulder's ass and the sling, lifting him up slightly to move his ass closer to the edge of the sling. The tongue licked down his cock, over his balls, and then teeth nipped down the inside of one thigh and back up the other.

Mulder wiggled a little in his restraints, trying to draw the talented mouth closer to his aching groin, then gasped as that tongue began rimming him, probing at his opening then pushing inside. He helplessly thrust against that mouth, incoherent words bubbling from his lips, while his cock bobbed and begged to be touched. The mouth moved upward, licking over his balls and up to tease his cock while fingers took the tongue's place, thrusting slowly into his ass. He was begging shamelessly by the time Skinner's mouth slid down over his cock and thankfully thrust up into the hot mouth that knew him so well. He nearly cried when the mouth released his cock.

"Don't come yet. I'll be displeased if you come before I tell you to."

Mulder groaned at that, especially when Skinner's mouth returned to sucking on his cock. "Sir - I don't - I can't - "

"If you can't control yourself, I can put a ring on you." The voice was flat, non-judgmental, making a fair offer.

Mulder drew a deep breath, steadying himself. "No - I can control - "

"Good man." The voice was warm, pleased with his response, and he felt a flood of joy fill him at the thought that he had pleased his top.

Skinner's mouth returned to its work, and Mulder felt as if the only things that existed in the darkness he floated in were that mouth sliding up and down on his cock and those fingers thrusting into his ass. He clung to his control, realizing that the last thing he wanted to do was end this sweet torment so soon, knowing that Skinner had more planned for him. He groaned in loss when the mouth and hands moved away, tensing in anticipation at the same time, and felt a hard warmth against his ass.

"What do you want, Fox?" That voice in the darkness was like rich velvet over steel, demanding an answer.

Mulder groaned, writhing in his attempt to impale himself on the hard shaft pressing against him. "Please - please - fuck me, sir."

"With pleasure, Fox." Skinner grasped the sling and pulled it forward in one smooth movement, filling Mulder completely. With steady, even movements, he pushed the sling away and pulled it back, working himself in and out of the hot, tight body before him.

Mulder arched his back at the sudden burst of fire that pressed into him and felt the darkness expand until he was floating in space, far from the pull of gravity. The Universe surrounded and filled him, and the solar winds pushed his body back and forth. The heat of a nova burned at the base of his spine, burning and expanding and filling him with light and heat. A voice from far away called to him, words he couldn't understand but whose meaning was clear, and it was like music. The nova burst up his spine, convulsing his body, exploding out the crown of his head. And then all was darkness.

* * *

Mulder drifted back to consciousness, cradled in warmth and softness. He forced heavy eyelids open and saw Skinner looking down in his face with amused concern, and he realized that Skinner had gotten him out of the sling and tucked into bed while he was out cold.

"You okay?"

"If you consider 'okay' as having had my entire body ripped apart and put back together then, yeah, I'm okay." Mulder stretched languorously, enjoying the feel of his skin against Skinner's.

"You were out for so long that I was starting to worry."

Mulder's eyes glinted with amusement. "And you sound pretty pleased with yourself."

"Can I help it if you're good for my ego?" Skinner chuckled. "How did you like your presents?"

"Wonderful, but it's a good thing that I only have one birthday a year. I'm beginning to think you're trying to kill me with sex."

Skinner laughed softly and kissed the soft hair under his chin. "So what do you think about unlucky Friday the 13th now?"

Mulder snuggled in closer and let his eyes drift shut. "I think that I'll plan on spending them in your bed in future. Much safer - and a hell of a lot more fun."

Skinner thought that he liked the sound of that. The words contained the sounds of "love" and "forever" in them. "Good night, Fox. And - happy birthday."

 


	8. A Matter of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder leaps into danger and Skinner takes action, then has to deal with the fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "A Matter of Trust" by Billy Joel

_Some love is just a lie of the soul_ _  
A constant battle for the ultimate state of control_ _  
After you've heard lie upon lie_ _  
There can hardly be a question of why_  
_Some love is just a lie of the heart_ _  
The cold remains of what began with a passionate start_ _  
But that can't happen to us_ __  
Because it's always been a matter of trust

  

The message was waiting for him when he checked in and Mulder studied the envelope. No postal marks, neat but not distinctive block printing of his name, no identifiers of any kind. He took the envelope up to the suite and slit it, pulling out a single sheet of paper.

"Mr. Mulder - I have information on the Consortium involvement with your present situation, including identities, addresses, and documentation. If you are interested, meet me Saturday afternoon, 2 p.m., at the location below. This is a one-time offer. Come alone. A friend"

A map was drawn on the bottom, and he identified the location as an alleyway about three blocks from the Club. He read the letter again, then tucked it into his bag and began his usual preparations.

In the shower, he ran the words through his head again and again. If this was legit, this could be what he needed to get Benett removed from the Club, maybe even lead to his boss, the cigarette smoker. If. It could also be a trap. And then there was the little matter of how he was going to ditch Skinner to meet the contact. He had no doubt that Skinner would veto the meeting if Mulder told him about it, or would insist on accompanying him or setting up some kind of surveillance. He would have to go alone, take his chances, and deal with the fallout later.

He dried off and fastened the cuffs on his wrists and ankles, then picked up the new collar. Looking at it and stroking the soft leather, he had sudden qualms about his decision. Skinner trusted him. The bracelet might symbolize the contract between them here at the Club, but the collar defined the relationship between them, a relationship based on trust. He trusted Skinner to take care of him and respect his limits. Skinner trusted him to obey his rules and to communicate honestly. Mulder knew that he should show Skinner the note, discuss what to do about it, and accept Skinner's decision. But, he reasoned to himself, he knew what Skinner would decide and he knew that he just couldn't pass on an opportunity to learn more about the Consortium. Guiltily, he pushed the collar to the bottom of the bag, zipped it, and stuck it in the bottom of the closet.

The door opened and Skinner entered with a smile. "Hello, Fox. No car trouble today?"

Mulder managed to smile. "No, sir. Smooth sailing."

Skinner tossed his bag onto a chair and moved to take Mulder in his arms for a brief hug and kiss, relishing the scent of clean, damp hair against his cheek. "Hey, where's your new collar?"

Mulder flushed and couldn't meet Skinner's eyes. "I left it on the table at home. I'm sorry, sir."

Skinner laughed softly. "Watch out - if Scully finds that, she'll be shocked. In fact, given the level of traffic through your apartment, you might want to leave it here for safe-keeping." Mulder nodded, still not looking at him, and Skinner gently squeezed him. "I'm not mad - just a little disappointed. It looked so pretty around your neck." He dropped a kiss on Mulder's neck and then pushed away. "I'm going to get a shower. You can start setting out dinner, and I'll be out shortly."

"Yes, sir," Mulder said, relieved to have something to do. He debated again whether he was doing the right thing then, with a sigh, realized that he had already made his decision. Now he would just have to live with it.

* * *

Mulder fidgeted around the room on Saturday till one o'clock, glancing surreptitiously at the clock from time to time. Finally he decided that he couldn't wait any longer.

"I'm going to go workout," Mulder said casually. Skinner didn't look up from his work, just nodded. Mulder thankfully changed into his sweats and slipped out of the room to go meet his contact.

A few minutes after Mulder left, Skinner got up to fetch a file from his briefcase by the bed. Mulder had left his cuffs sitting on the bed and Skinner picked them up to toss them into the open bag on the chair. Something caught his eye, and he opened the bag wider to pull out the collar he had given to Mulder for his birthday. He frowned - hadn't Mulder said that he forgot the collar at home? Had he overlooked it - or had he lied for some reason? That didn't seem likely - he had been so excited to receive the collar, so why wouldn't he want to wear it now? But then, Mulder had been acting funny since they arrived Friday night. Maybe it had triggered some sort of emotional problem that he was reluctant to discuss, or maybe it was something as simple as the collar irritating his neck. Skinner set it back down on the bag, determined to discuss the issue with Mulder when he returned, and caught sight of an envelope. He pulled it out and saw that it was addressed to Mulder in simple block printing. He hesitated for a moment, then opened the envelope and scanned the letter.

"God damn it, Mulder!" A violent rage filled him, and he crumpled the letter in one hand. Glancing at the clock, he realized that the meeting would be taking place any minute. He grabbed his weapon out of his briefcase and went in pursuit of his errant agent.

Rounding the corner to the alley, Skinner heard the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle. He crouched behind boxes to ascertain the situation and saw Mulder wrestling with three assailants who were obviously trying to get Mulder into a waiting van. Mulder took down one man but a second man knocked him to the ground. With Mulder out of the line of fire Skinner seized his opportunity.

"FBI! Freeze!"

The men abandoned their quarry and jumped into the back of the van and it sped off. Skinner pocketed his gun and sprinted forward to kneel by Mulder, who pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan. His lip was bleeding slightly and his sweat clothes were dirty from the fall, but he appeared to be okay. For some reason, that made Skinner even more furious.

"Walter!" Mulder said in surprise. "How - "

"I found the note," Skinner said grimly, hauling the younger man to his feet.

"It was a trap," Mulder said ingeniously.

"No shit," growled Skinner. He fastened one large hand on the back of Mulder's neck and began quick-walking him back to the Club.

"Ow! Walter, that hurts my neck!"

"That's not the only thing that's going to hurt," Skinner said grimly. "I advise you to keep your mouth shut."

Mulder didn't recognize this tone of voice, which was somewhere between the A.D. and Dom voices but nowhere near as controlled. He decided to keep quiet till he could talk to Skinner in privacy. Thankfully, they didn't run into anyone on their way up to the room.

Once in the room, Skinner shoved him face down onto the bed and held him down with one strong hand while the other hauled down Mulder's sweatpants. Then his hand came down hard on Mulder's bare ass.

Mulder jerked, trying to twist away. "What the hell - "

"Shut. Up," Skinner ordered, continuing to swat him. "That was the stupidest stunt I've seen you pull, Mulder, and I've seen you pull a lot! As your boss, I've frequently wanted to blister your backside for the shit you've pulled. And now I'm going to do just that."

"I thought - ow! - you said - damn it! - you didn't do this shit!"

"That's in the game. This has _nothing_ to do with the game and _everything_ with trying to keep your sorry ass alive." After a few more hard swats, Skinner hauled up Mulder's pants, pulled him up off the bed, and pushed him into the corner. "Don't move," he ordered. "I've got some business to take care of, and I want to know where you are." He stormed out of the room.

Mulder leaned his forehead against the wall feeling rebellious and wondered what Skinner would do if he just packed up and left. He swallowed hard; he probably didn't want to know. At least the spanking was over with - and surely he could endure a little humiliation. And he hadn't had to stand with his bare ass exposed, although the feel of his clothes against the tender flesh was very uncomfortable. He shifted a little on his feet, trying to find a comfortable position to stand in. Then, as he heard the door open, he straightened up and snuck a look at the doorway. Skinner had come back in with one of the security men. Mulder moaned and leaned his head forward against the wall again to hide his embarrassment.

"Someone knew where he was going," Skinner was saying, and the man methodically ran the scanner over the room. When the scanner passed over Mulder's overnight bag the alarm went off. The security man opened the bag and scanned the contents.

"In the waistband of the boxers," the security man said. "Not a bug but a tracker." He nodded in Mulder's direction. "He's probably got one on him right now."

Skinner nodded, grabbed Mulder by the neck again and pushed him into the bathroom, thrusting his robe at the younger man. "Take off the clothes, Mulder."

Mulder closed the door, thankful that Skinner hadn't made him strip in front of the security man, quickly stripped and wrapped the robe around himself. He opened the door and silently handed his clothes to Skinner, who then pointed a stern finger back at the corner. Mulder sighed but obediently returned to his place. The security man scanned his clothes and determined that there was another tracker in his sweat pants.

"I'll take these and have the devices removed. We may be able to track their buyer through the manufacturer. We'll have these returned as soon as we're done."

"No hurry," Skinner said, and turned a stern glance in Mulder's direction. "He won't be needing them for a while."

Mulder went red again and the security man chuckled. "We'll let you know what we find."

Mulder heard the door close, the latch being thrown, the squeak of the bedsprings as Skinner sat on the bed.

"Mulder, come here."

Mulder obeyed that stern voice, gingerly sitting down on the bed where Skinner indicated.

"Why, Fox? Why did you go to meet this unknown 'friend' without backup? Without telling me? You could have been killed, or worse. What if I hadn't shown up when I did? If I had to file a police report all of this would come out, and both our careers would be out the window. And you'd be - God knows where, and I'd be worried sick about you."

Somewhere in the middle of this, Mulder had caught the anguished tone behind Skinner's harsh words and suddenly saw the older man suffering unbelievable agony over him. It had been a long time since anyone but Scully had cared that much about him. Tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks silently.

"What could possibly be worth it?" Skinner asked, turning to look at Mulder. It was then that he realized that Mulder was crying silently, and his heart nearly broke. Without another word, he gently pulled Mulder onto his lap, cradling his head against his shoulder and stroking his back comfortingly. "Hush, it's okay, I'm here, I won't let anyone hurt you."

"S-sorry," Mulder muttered.

"Well, you should be," Skinner said affectionately. "Idiot! Don't you know I can't bear to lose you?"

"R-really?"

"Of course. After all the time and trouble I've put into training you, I just don't have the energy for another."

"Asshole," Mulder said shakily but with a smile. "And here I was thinking it was my blow jobs that kept you coming back."

"That, and the fact that you scream when you come." He kissed Mulder gently.

"Um, Walter, this is nice and everything, but do you think I could lay down? My ass is killing me." Skinner chuckled and released Mulder who stretched out on the bed on his stomach with a relieved sigh. He turned his head so he could see Skinner and managed a half-smile. "Remind me never to piss you off again."

Skinner gently stroked the soft hair. Now that his rage had passed, he regretted what he had done. He had broken his promise to Mulder not to inflict intentional pain, and he had disciplined out of anger instead of waiting till his temper cooled down. "I could make you feel better," he said, leaning over to kiss Mulder's cheek.

Mulder looked at him skeptically. "I doubt it. My ass feels like raw hamburger."

"Trust me," Skinner said, unbelting the robe and slipping it off Mulder's prone form. "I am a man of many talents."

"That I know." Mulder sighed blissfully as Skinner pressed kisses down his spine. He blew gently across the reddened skin and Mulder shivered. "God, that feels incredible."

"Heightened sensitivity," Skinner murmured, running his fingertips over the skin with the lightest of pressure. Mulder moaned and writhed under his hands. "Be still, or do you want me to tie you down?"

"No. I'll be still," Mulder said softly. "Just don't stop."

"I have no intention of stopping." He kissed the base of Mulder's spine, then gently flicked a tongue across Mulder's supersensitive skin. Mulder shuddered and groaned, hugging a pillow tightly, but stayed still as Skinner's tongue moved over his ass, soothing the burning flesh. "Lift your hips." Mulder did so eagerly and Skinner placed pillows under his belly. "Beautiful," he said softly. "You are so beautiful with your sweet, tight, _red_ ass in the air, waiting for me. Maybe I should do this more often."

"What, fuck me?"

"No, spank you." Skinner chuckled wickedly at the dirty look that Mulder shot him. "I wouldn't do that when I've got you in such a vulnerable position."

"You are a sadistic man, Walter Skinner."

Skinner ran his tongue around Mulder's anus, teasing him, then ran a probing finger inside. "You are such a slut," he said affectionately. "Already hot and ready for me."

"Then show you appreciate my efforts and fuck me."

"Well, since you ask so nicely…" Skinner moved away.

"Please, Walter, sir, please fuck me through the mattress."

Skinner laughed and returned with the lube, slicking himself down. "You beg so nicely, Fox." He slid in easily, and Mulder groaned at the feel of his lover's balls slapping against his sensitive ass. "I want you to feel this and remember what you are risking with your unthinking actions. _Us_." He thrust hard again, and Mulder felt the delicious agony.

"Yes, oh, yes," Mulder moaned, pushing back to meet the thrusting.

Skinner continued to pound hard into the younger man, enjoying the needy sounds that Mulder was making as his climax hovered just beyond reach. Then, feeling his own impending orgasm, he reached around and grasped Mulder's cock, pumping it hard. Mulder shuddered and then he was coming and the sensations took Skinner over the edge, too. They collapsed on the bed, and then Skinner gently eased out and rolled to his side beside Mulder.

"How's the pain now?" he asked.

Mulder opened sleepy eyes. "Pain? What pain?"

Skinner chuckled. "Go to sleep, babe."

Mulder nodded and drifted off to sleep. And Skinner sat and watched him sleep for a long time, thinking.

* * *

When Mulder woke from his nap, he found that he was alone. There was a note on the nightstand from Skinner telling him that he had gone down to work out. Mulder sat up gingerly, noticing that his posterior was still tender but not unbearably so. He thought about going down to swim but decided against it.

What he really needed was to talk to someone about what he was feeling. The punishment he had received had been mild compared to his father's whippings, but it had been unexpected and made him uncertain of what to expect from Skinner in the future. He had come to trust Skinner completely and, he admitted to himself, had viewed him as a near-perfect top. Now he was feeling disillusioned, and a little like a kid who discovered his favorite toy was flawed.

He showered, slipped on his returned sweats and went looking for Sean. As he entered the library, he was startled when a small sofa pillow flew across the room at him. He caught it instinctively.

"You might find it more comfortable if you sit on that."

Mulder groaned and pressed the pillow against his face. "Oh, God, does everyone know about that?"

Sean grinned. "Not yet. I was in the office when our security man reported to Geoff." He watched as Mulder threw the pillow back onto the couch and gingerly sat down in a chair. "Well, that answers my question on method - bare hand on bare skin. You'd be a lot more uncomfortable otherwise."

"What makes you think I'm not uncomfortable _now_?" Mulder asked tightly.

"First time?"

Mulder glared. "No, Walter regularly beats me - we get off on it!"

Sean looked at him tranquilly. "Been there. Done that."

Mulder instantly regretted his outburst. "Sorry. I guess the whole thing unsettled me. Walter's never hit me before."

"The Mountain's got incredible will-power. I think he must be tempted daily."

"Hey!" Mulder said, indignant. "I am not _that_ difficult! Why does everyone think that I am?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "How many other subs here go running off to a clandestine meeting _without_ telling their tops and almost get kidnapped? And why do I get the feeling that this is not the first time that has happened? What do you do for a living, anyway? Deliver the Publisher's Clearing House checks?"

Mulder grinned. "No way - that's much too dangerous. I just investigate government conspiracies and unexplained phenomenon."

"Sorry I asked. He's your boss, right?" Mulder nodded. "Talk about your unusual working relationships… So what is it that scared you most - his loss of control or the great sex afterward?"

Mulder looked at him, curiously. "How do you know about that?"

" _Mulder_! I've been doing this since I was sixteen. I've done just about everything and have the physical and emotional scars to prove it. If spanking was part of your game, you wouldn't be down here all confused and wanting to talk about it."

"Damn. Have you ever thought about hanging out your shingle? You're better than any of the head doctors I've talked to."

"And you're deflecting. And yes, I know the terminology, 'cause I've been there, too, after a really bad scene."

Mulder sighed. "Okay, I admit to both. So what do I do now?"

"You talk to _him_ about it. If it wasn't part of your normal scenes, then it was probably as unexpected for him as it was for you. He's probably just as confused as you."

"Walter doesn't seem to be confused about anything."

Sean snorted. "He's just better at hiding it than you are. Believe me - he's plenty confused." He sat up. "Come on - I hear that Jean-Pierre made chocolate mousse for dessert. If we play on his sympathy, maybe we can get some now."

* * *

The Secretary looked up from his desk. "Mr. Skinner? What can I do for you?"

"I'm not here on official business," Skinner said, sitting down. "I just wondered if you had a few minutes to talk. I need some advice."

The Secretary studied him for a moment, then pushed a button on his phone. "Hanson, hold my calls and handle any business that comes up for the next hour. I'll be in my suite if anything serious comes up."

He disconnected and turned back to Skinner with a half-smile. "Well, Walter? I can guess what brought you here. You don't pick the easy ones, do you?"

Skinner smiled back, relieved by the affectionate amusement in the man's voice. Considering the way that they had parted, he hadn't known just what to expect. "With all respect, neither do you, Geoff."

"Good point." Geoffrey Mason stood and led the way to his personal suite, walking over to the bar. "Is it still Scotch?" He poured two glasses and handed one to Skinner, then settled down in an armchair and studied Skinner for a long moment.

"I'm glad to see you back, Walter," he said simply. "Ever since you came back, I've been hoping you would come by to talk."

Skinner looked down at his glass. "I wasn't sure - considering all that happened - "

"I know. I just wish that you had come to talk to me two years ago, before you left."

"To tell you what - that you were right? That taking on Alex was a mistake? Would that have helped?"

Mason sighed. "Still a stubborn bastard, aren't you? I never did manage to knock that out of you."

"Not for lack of trying," Skinner said, eyes glinting with amusement, and Mason laughed.

"It was worth it, despite all the trouble you gave me," Mason said affectionately. "You were the best top I ever brought along. Still are, for that matter." He sighed and shook his head. "These kids today - they think that it's all about complicated scenes and heavy whipping. No sense of finesse. That was always your strong point - you could have a sub's knees knocking with just a look."

"I learned from the best," Skinner said, smiling. "You bringing along any Juniors now?"

Mason shook his head. "I've got enough to handle right now with managing this place. And with Sean."

Skinner nodded. "How _is_ Sean?"

Mason took a deep breath, studying his drink. "He's got his up and down days, which you'd expect, but there are more ups than downs. But you didn't come here to talk about Sean, or me. What's the problem, Walter?"

Skinner sighed. "Fox Mulder."

Mason looked sober. "I heard about the attempted kidnapping. Is there something I should know about?"

"Officially? It's too early to say. Unofficially, I have reason to suspect that Jason Benett was behind it and that he works for a certain member whom you had removed."

Mason nodded. "He was the man's Junior before we expelled him, and I always suspected that he maintained his ties with the Smoker. But we can't prove anything, and association isn't enough to get him removed. Benett's been close to the line but he still hasn't crossed it." He looked over at Skinner. "Two weeks ago we caught him attempting to discipline your boy."

"Mulder told me."

"Odd that he showed up in the locker room just when Mulder was there." Mason's eyes were expressionless as they studied Skinner's face. "Or maybe not so odd since we discovered tracking devices on Mulder's clothes. So what do you need advice on?"

Skinner sighed. "I made a mistake. After the attempted kidnapping, I spanked Mulder."

"And this was a mistake because - ?"

"I did it out of anger. And I had promised Mulder that I wouldn't intentionally hurt him."

"Why in hell did you make such a stupid promise? Never mind - I know why." Mason got up and paced angrily for a moment. "Jesus, Walter! When are you going to get past Alex Krycek?"

"Geoff - "

Mason crouched beside Skinner's chair and took his head between his hands, forcing Skinner to meet his eyes. "You made an error in judgment. You had no idea that Alex was with that bastard. When you saw how bad things were you stopped. End of story, Walter. Now - get over it." He gave Skinner's head a slight shake before releasing him and standing back up.

Skinner smiled slightly. "Is that an order, Master Geoff?"

Mason smiled back affectionately. "It's a request from an old friend. Now - about your boy. You know that you owe him an apology and the option to break the contract if he can't trust you anymore."

Skinner nodded. "I know. I don't think he'll take it."

"It might be better for you if he did," Mason said frankly. "The boy is trouble, Walter."

"I know. Hell, I've been working with him for years. But he's been a good sub, Geoff. He learns very quickly and is very eager."

"Well, why not? If all you're doing is mild D/s bedroom stuff what's not to be eager about? Unless he doesn't care for the sex." Mason's eyes studied Skinner frankly and he felt himself flushing.

"That's not a problem."

"It never was a problem where you were concerned," Mason said wryly. "You always _did_ have the subs falling all over themselves to get into your bed."

"And here I thought it was my skill with a whip."

Mason chuckled. "Well, you haven't lost your sense of humor at any rate. But seriously, Walter, have you considered that you're too close to the problem? That you love him too much to be able to control him? Just remember, if all you're getting is what _he_ wants, then you are no longer in control. And that boy needs a firm hand. You might want to reconsider - and discuss with him - that no-pain agreement."

Skinner shook his head. "There are other factors, Geoff, that make physical punishment a bad idea."

"Childhood abuse?"

"I can't be certain - he doesn't talk about it - but I suspect there was some abuse."

"Well, it's not like we haven't seen that here with other subs," Mason said with a sigh. "How did he react to the spanking?"

"Too quiet for him but not in the least bit repentant. He didn't admit he was at fault until I was talking to him later. Then came the tears and apologies."

"So words are his triggers?" Mason considered, then sighed and shook his head. "Walter, you won't always be able to _talk_ out the problem. You're going to have to find other ways to discipline him."

"I know," Skinner said with a sigh.

"Well, anything I can do, just let me know."

Skinner nodded, finished his drink and stood up. "Thanks, Geoff. I appreciate you taking the time - "

"Don't give me that nonsense." Mason hugged Walter warmly. "We're family, Walter - including your troublesome boy. Never forget that."

* * *

Mulder and Sean were perched on stools in the kitchen, inhaling bowls of mousse, when the Secretary came into the room. "I thought you two might be here. Mr. Skinner is looking for you, Mulder."

Mulder nodded and set down his bowl. "Later, Sean." He hurried out.

The Secretary shook his head. "Walter's got his hands full with that one."

"He's not so bad," Sean said mildly. "Lots of potential if he'll just stop listening to his head long enough to listen to his heart. I've got my eye on him."

"Just don't let him drag you into trouble." The Secretary reached over to tousle his lover's hair. "Now out with you, scamp. Jean-Pierre has work to do."

* * *

Skinner was standing at the window staring out when Mulder entered, slightly out of breath from hurrying and from nervousness.

"Sorry, sir," he began -

Skinner turned toward him and smiled. "It's all right. Sit down, Fox - we need to talk." Mulder sat down on his customary ottoman and waited. "What happened earlier - I handled that badly, and I'm sorry."

Mulder blinked. He had not expected an apology from Skinner. His feelings of betrayed trust began to ease, and he suddenly realized that the hollow sensation in his stomach was lifting. "Sir?"

"When we are here, game rules apply and you have been very good about keeping that separate from the real world. If you broke the rules _here_ \- which you did by leaving the premises without my permission - I should have disciplined you according to the game rules. Instead, I got angry and took that out on you and broke my word. I told you at the start that I would not intentionally inflict pain. If I was going to change that, we should have discussed it first and agreed to it."

"I'd rather not change that agreement," Mulder said frankly. "I didn't like being spanked like a kid."

Skinner smiled wryly. "You're not supposed to like it but I understand what you mean. And if you feel that you can't trust me any more, I'll understand if you want to break our contract."

Mulder shook his head, eager to admit his own fault now that Skinner had done so first. "I trust you, sir. I was at fault. I should have shown you the letter and discussed it with you. And I lied about the collar. I didn't forget it - it's in my bag."

"Why _did_ you lie about the collar?" Skinner asked curiously.

Mulder flushed but said honestly, "I felt that I couldn't wear it and then ditch you. It wouldn't have been right."

Skinner smiled at that, amazed at the intricate workings of Mulder's conscience. "So - apology accepted?" Mulder nodded and slid into Skinner's arms for a kiss.

Mulder grinned up at him. "You know, I've heard that make-up sex is incredible."

"In that case, Fox, I think you're overdressed." Skinner tugged the sweatshirt over Mulder's head. "And I'd like to see that pretty collar around your neck."

"Whatever you say, sir."

"My favorite words." Skinner nipped at Mulder's neck. "I think I'm going to tape them and play them back in the office when you're being difficult."

Mulder chuckled as he tilted his head to give Skinner better access to his neck. "You'll shock Scully, sir. Not to mention anyone bugging your office."

"Poor Scully," Skinner said, surveying the mark he had left on Mulder's neck with satisfaction. "After your recent good behavior, she must be ready to certify you."

Mulder grinned and slid out of Skinner's arms to fetch his collar from the bag. He caressed the leather, then held it against his neck and turned so that Skinner could fasten it. "I'm always good, sir," he said provocatively.

Skinner snorted. "I'm not talking about your skills in bed - and I would hope Scully wouldn't be either."

Mulder turned, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Jealous, sir?"

"Possessive, and I freely admit it. I always got low marks on sharing my toys with others." Skinner touched the tag and then drew Mulder back into his arms. " _Mine_."

Mulder kissed him softly. "Yours. All yours." And he thought to himself that he liked the sound of that, liked the thought of belonging to someone who cared enough about him to be angry when he did something stupid. And then, as Skinner tumbled him back onto the bed, he abandoned rational thought altogether.


	9. Crimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get themselves into trouble and are rescued by two angry tops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "I Go to Extremes" by Billy Joel.

_Out of the darkness, into the light_ _  
Leaving the scene of the crime_ _  
Either I'm wrong or I'm perfectly right every time_ _  
Sometimes I lie awake night after night_ _  
Coming apart at the seams_ _  
Eager to please, ready to fight_  
_Why do I go to extremes?_

 

Jason Benett was stalking him.

Of that he was morally certain. No matter where he went, Benett was there. In the exercise room, in the library, in the dining room, everywhere. Studying him with a look that made Mulder feel that he had been selected as the main course for dinner - or at least dessert. Watching him with eyes that promised retribution for what had happened in the locker room. Mulder was not a coward but the look in those eyes made him determined not to be found alone anywhere in that Club. Sean, when appealed to for help, advised him to tell Skinner about it but Mulder was certain that Skinner would think it was his over-active imagination. Mulder knew that it was real.

Then came the long Veteran's Day weekend, and Mulder decided to take the situation into his own hands.

They had missed the previous weekend due to an out-of-town case for Mulder and an important meeting in one of the regional offices for Skinner, and Skinner had suggested that they make up for it by spending an extra day at the Club. Mulder had been only too willing to agree. Their reunion Friday night had been highly combustible, leaving both of them sated and exhausted, and it was mid-day before either of them stirred.

Skinner woke first, stumbling into the bathroom amid twinges from complaining muscles. He smiled to himself, trying to remember the last time he had engaged in such an athletic bout of lovemaking. More years than he liked to remember, but Mulder brought that out in him, made him feel like a kid again. He padded back into the bedroom, surveyed the dark tousled head just visible in the wreck of the bedding, and wickedly stripped the covers off the bed.

Mulder groaned and rolled over on his stomach, burying his face in the mattress. "Have a heart, Walter. I'm reasonably certain that the coroner's office would declare this body dead."

Skinner grinned and popped the delectable ass so fetchingly displayed. "Rise and shine, Mulder."

Mulder lifted his head and balefully regarded his nemesis. "I'm rising, but I ain't shining. You're too damned cheerful this morning. Sir."

Skinner grinned and sat down on the bed next to Mulder. "A week ago at this time I was listening to a series of boring fiscal reports from regional ASACs. This is much, much better." He rolled an unresisting Mulder over onto his back so that he could thoroughly kiss the younger man.

"You're a hedonist," Mulder murmured when Skinner released his mouth.

"Definitely. Speaking of which, I'm going to get a shower. Coming?"

"I'm biting my tongue." He grinned at Skinner as the other man laughed, and then he stretched with a groan. "I think I'll head down to the gym to work out some of the kinks."

"Not too many, I hope. I like your kinks." He laughed as Mulder shot him a bird. "You are so disrespectful. Guess I'll have to do something about that when you get back."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Yes."

Mulder laughed and left the suite. He hooked up with Sean at the Secretary's office and they went to the gym. Mulder almost turned and left when he saw that Benett was there, working out with the weights, but he reasoned that Benett couldn't possibly molest him in front of so many witnesses. Sean gave him a questioning look; Mulder shrugged and headed towards the treadmills while Sean made for the pool.

Mulder stretched out and warmed up, then stepped up on the treadmill and programmed it. He still preferred to jog outdoors but Skinner had vetoed that after the near kidnapping and, actually, these things weren't too bad. He could choose the terrain, the stress level and then just get into the mindset. After his run, he headed toward the pool to see how Sean was doing. As Mulder approached the doorway, Benett suddenly moved into his way so that Mulder couldn't avoid bumping into him.

"Watch where you're going, boy!"

Shit, thought Mulder. This was not going to be good.

"Sorry, sir," he said quietly, focusing his eyes on the ground.

"Are you being insolent, boy?"

"No, sir." Mulder looked around out of the corner of his eye for Sean and saw the smaller man heading their way looking worried.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy." Benett grabbed Mulder's chin, forcing his face up. "Ah, it's my old friend 'Kitten'." Mulder was not fooled by the pretense that Benett hadn't recognized him when he jostled Mulder. "You still seem to need training, alley cat."

Mulder showed his wrist, his eyes challenging Benett. "As I said before, I have a master."

"He must be a poor master if he hasn't curbed your insolent tongue. Who is he?"

"Is there some trouble here?"

Speak of the cavalry, Mulder thought in relief, and sneaked a sideways look. Skinner was crossing the floor towards them, a look on his face that boded ill for someone - and that someone was not Mulder for a change.

Benett turned his head to study Skinner coolly. "Does this - creature belong to you?"

"He does."

"Your Kitten has poor manners. He doesn't appear to know the respect that should be accorded to a top." Skinner gave Benett a look and the Junior found himself quickly releasing the sub's chin. "That is, of course, your business, but I would school him better if I were you."

"I'll be sure to attend to that." Skinner's face was like stone but the tone of his voice conveyed his complete disinterest in Benett's opinion. Benett gave Mulder one last look and then left. Skinner swung around to grasp Mulder by the shoulders. "You okay, Fox?"

Mulder nodded. "I'm fine, Walter. He just - unnerved me a little."

"What happened?"

Sean joined them. "Benett deliberately moved in front of Mulder so that Mulder couldn't help bumping into him." He looked troubled. "Do you want to file a report against him, Mulder?"

"Would it do any good?"

Sean hesitated, then shook his head. "No. It's not enough to get him thrown out; it would just piss him off. And that's one man you don't want pissed off at you. Well, not any more than he already is."

Skinner frowned. "Has he been harassing you, Fox?"

Mulder hesitated. "No, not harassing me. Just - everywhere I go he seems to be there. And I'm not wearing any trackers - I had the guys go over all my clothes including shoes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Skinner's voice was grim.

"I thought you'd think I was paranoid."

"I already think that, Fox. But just because you’re paranoid doesn't mean that they aren't out to get you. From now on, you keep me in the loop, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Skinner thought for a moment. "I'm going to talk with Geoffrey about the situation - maybe he'll have some ideas. Mulder - get changed and keep out of trouble." He started toward the door, then a sudden thought struck him and he turned back. "Why did he call you my 'kitten'?"

Mulder flushed. "The last time we tangled - I didn't want to tell him my real name - in case he's - " He glanced over at Sean. "I couldn't think of any other name to tell him."

"Kitten?" Skinner's lips twitched, and Sean grinned.

Mulder glared at both of them. "It's not funny. I was desperate."

Skinner nodded. "Of course. Totally understandable. Kitten."

* * *

"No, Mulder. No, no, no."

"Sean," Mulder said persuasively. "I've got to get into his room and check it out. I'm sure that he's got something in there that will implicate him in that attempted kidnapping." And with the Consortium, he thought, but didn't say it aloud. "All I need you to do is point out the right dumbwaiter and distract the kitchen staff while I get in."

"And what if he walks in on you? He'll be within his rights to press charges, get you kicked out of here. And what would the Mountain think of that?"

Mulder shuddered slightly, not even wanting to think what Skinner would say, but persisted. "I've got to do this, Sean. I can't keep dodging out of his way or walking around with you or Walter as bodyguards."

Sean bit his lip, considering, then sighed. "All right. I'll help. But not the dumbwaiter. Wait here." He returned after a few minutes with a plastic card. "Master passkey. We'll go in the front door."

"Not we. Me. I want you to clear out."

Sean stood his ground, holding the cardkey behind his back. "I'm in, Mulder. I'll stand guard while you're inside. It's that or you're totally on your own, mate."

Mulder sighed. "All right. I guess I've got no choice."

Sean led the way to a room on the second floor and, after making sure there were no witnesses, he used the master key to open Benett's door. "All right, Mulder. Make it fast - please."

Mulder shut the door behind himself and began searching the room, trying to go as quickly as possible without leaving evidence of his search. Nothing in the drawers, the cabinet - this one with a lot more deadly looking implements than the one in Skinner's suite - was clean, the closet empty. And then, under the bed, a briefcase. Bingo, he thought, pulling it out. Locked. He swore under his breath, tried to think of possible combinations but it could be anything and he didn't have the time to experiment.

On that thought, Mulder heard Sean's voice loudly talking to someone outside the room. Damn! he thought, shoving the briefcase back under the bed and looking around for an escape route. His eyes lit on the dumbwaiter. He hit the retrieve button and, when the shelf arrived, dove into it and hit the send button as he passed. The door shut scant inches behind him and he felt it descend toward the basement. It stopped and he wiggled around to face the grill, looking out into the kitchen. Now all he had to do was wait for the coast to be clear -

Sean came racing into the kitchen right about then, skidding to a halt in front of the food service chutes. "Mulder?"

"Help me get out of here, Sean." Sean opened the panel and reached in to grab Mulder's arm.

A deep voice suddenly boomed out. "What are you doing in there?"

Sean jerked around suddenly, swearing under his breath. Mulder winced and tilted his head up slightly to see the assistant chef staring balefully at them. Damn, he thought, busted.

"Um - it was a bet. Sean thought I couldn't fit into one of these."

"Thanks a lot, mate," Sean muttered under his breath.

"Better than the truth," Mulder hissed back. "We're sorry - we'll get out of your way - "

The assistant chef looked skeptical and said, "You two stay right there." He disappeared into the main kitchen.

"Wanna bet who he's going to get?" Sean asked, slumping dejectedly.

"Nope. I'm just praying for a heart attack before Walter gets here."

"Failing that, I could stab you to death with one of those large knives."

"You're a pal, Sean."

A short time later, Skinner and Mason entered the kitchen and stopped before their respective charges. Skinner glowered at Mulder.

"Want to tell me what this is about, Mulder?"

"Is this a multiple choice question?" Mulder quipped. Skinner's hand shot out, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and shook him. "I'm going to guess that's a 'no'."

"Mulder, I'm losing my patience."

"It was just a silly bet, Walter. Really."

Mason crossed his arms and stared at Sean. "Is that true, Sean? And - before you answer - may I remind you that I have a strap with your name on it in our room?"

Sean opened his mouth, then closed it and looked over at Mulder. Mulder sighed and said, "Okay. We were searching Benett's room. Or rather, _I_ was checking it out while Sean stood guard outside. Benett returned, and I had to make a quick getaway in the dumbwaiter."

"And how did Mulder get into Mr. Benett's room, Sean?" the Secretary asked sternly and Sean sighed then pulled the access card out of his back pocket. "All right, young man. Go to our room and get ready for me."

"Upstairs, Mulder." Skinner's face was stern. Mulder nodded, and he and Sean left the kitchen together.

"God, I'm sorry, Sean," he said miserably. "I've gotten you into trouble."

Sean shrugged. "I knew what I was doing, Mulder. Did you find anything?"

Mulder shook his head. "A locked briefcase." He stopped in front of Sean's door. "You gonna be okay? He looked pretty mad."

"I'll be fine. Geoff's tough but fair." He cocked his head and grinned. "On the other hand, I wouldn't want to be you for anything in the world."

"Gee, thanks," Mulder said dryly. He took the elevator up to the third floor, entered the suite, and stood wondering what to do. Sean's top had told him to get ready but Skinner had not given a similar order. Normally he would strip and put on the collar and cuffs when he returned to their rooms, but he was extremely reluctant to have his naked ass anywhere near Skinner while he was this angry. He decided to sit down - on the floor - and wait for further instructions.

It seemed like an hour before he heard the cardkey in the lock and he stood up. Skinner entered the room, tossed the cardkey on a table, and studied Mulder for a long moment.

"Mulder, what in the hell am I going to do with you?"

Mulder took a deep, relieved breath - the A.D. mode. He could expect to get his ass chewed out but at least it wouldn't get warmed. He cleared his throat.

"If Benett is working for Cancerman - "

" _If_ , Mulder. We don't know for sure. What if he had caught you in his room? If he is working for Cancerman, you could be dead. If he isn't - do you know how much trouble he could cause for you here?"

Mulder nodded. "Yes, sir. I thought it was worth the risk."

"And was it worth risking a civilian, too? Do you realize that you got someone else in trouble through your antics? Your friend, Sean, is no doubt getting a whipping this very minute."

Mulder's eyes darkened. "Yes, sir. I know. He shouldn't have been punished. It was my fault."

"Don't start bearing everyone else's guilt. He _did_ take the access card on his own - unless you held a gun to his head. I trust you didn't do that, Mulder."

Mulder managed a faint smile. "No, sir."

"Then you have more than enough sins of your own to pay for without taking on his."

"Pay for, sir?" Mulder said faintly.

"We talked about it last time," Skinner said firmly. "You are going to be disciplined for this, Fox."

"What - what are you going to do to me, sir?"

Skinner studied him for a long moment. "I think I'll let you worry about that for awhile. I'll tell you what your punishment is in the morning. In the meantime - I don't think I need to tell you where you are sleeping?"

"No, sir," Mulder said with a sigh. "Do I get a pillow or blanket?"

"Not this time. However, you can keep your sweats on."

Mulder nodded and took a deep breath, then settled onto the floor. He lay there quietly for a long time, watching as Skinner moved around the room getting ready for bed. As Skinner settled in bed with a book, Mulder said, quietly, "Sir?"

Skinner looked down at Mulder. "What is it?"

"Could - could you give me a little hint? The suspense is going to kill me."

"Of course, Fox. Here's your hint - you're not going to like it."

"Sir - "

"Give it up, Mulder. You really don't want to push my buttons right now."

Mulder sighed and rolled over on his side. He lay there for a long time, staring at the cabinet across the room, wondering what Skinner had planned. Mulling over pictures in his mind of medieval torture, he finally fell asleep.


	10. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder pays an unexpected price for his behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "I Go to Extremes" by Billy Joel

_Sometimes I'm tired, sometimes I'm shot_ _  
Sometimes I don't know how much more I've got_ _  
Maybe I'm headed over the hill_ _  
Maybe I've set myself up for the kill_  
_Tell me how much do you think you can take_ _  
Until the heart in you is starting to break_   
_Sometimes it feels like it will_

  

"Wake up, Fox."

Mulder muttered a request for five more minutes and rolled, searching for the body to accompany the voice, intent on snuggling. Instead, he found himself pressing his nose against a booted foot. He blinked, remembered where he was, and sighed. Judgment Day.

The foot moved away and he sat up, stretching with a groan. He dragged himself to his feet and staggered into the bathroom to relieve himself and splash cold water on his face. He avoided looking at his face, not wanting to see the fear in his own eyes. Damn it, why did he feel like a little kid?

He went into the main room and found Skinner sitting on the bed, waiting for him.

"Ready, Fox?"

Mulder nodded. "Where do you want me, sir?"

Skinner shook his head. "I'm not going to whip you, Fox."

"But - Sean was whipped, and it's not fair to him - I should be punished, too."

"And you will be. But I told you that I wouldn't deliberately hurt you, and I won't break my word."

Mulder felt at a loss, unsure of what was coming next, and it scared him. At least he knew what to expect from a whipping.

"Since Sean has suffered the most from this debacle, your punishment is to make it up to him. I am transferring your ownership to Sean's master for a day. For the next twenty-four hours, you will belong to Geoffrey Mason, and will take on Sean's duties."

Mulder blanched. "S-sir? You're giving me away?"

"For a day, Fox, and then you'll come back to me. You'll find that Geoff is a fair but tough master. I expect you to do your best for him." Mulder nodded numbly. "Pack your bag, and put on cuffs and collar."

As Mulder obeyed, Skinner took a leash out of the cabinet. He snapped it onto the collar, smiling at Mulder's puzzled look.

"It's symbolic, Mulder. You should appreciate that."

Mulder quietly followed Skinner down to the Secretary's suite. Geoffrey Mason opened the door, glanced coolly at Mulder, and nodded at Skinner.

"Walter."

Skinner held out the leash. "Here you are, Geoff. Good luck." He turned and touched Mulder's cheek briefly in reassurance. "Be good, brat."

"Yes, sir," Mulder said faintly, still in shock.

Mason tugged on the leash and Mulder reluctantly entered the suite, then heard the door close behind him like the lid on a coffin. Mason unsnapped the leash.

"Sit on the ottoman, Mulder - straighten your back and look straight ahead. I want to get a good look at you."

He walked around Mulder, looking him over critically. "You're a good looking young man." He gripped Mulder's chin and forced his head up to meet his eyes. "And I'm not impressed by your looks, boy. A lot of boys have come through here thinking they could slide by on their good looks. It didn't work for them and it won't work for you."

"I wouldn't try that, sir," Mulder said angrily, and Mason looked amused.

"So you have a temper, do you? I advise you to keep your temper in check and your smart mouth closed. I'm not as easily amused by impudent subs as Walter." He saw the flash in Mulder's eyes at the subtle jab at Skinner but Mulder bit his tongue. "I assume that Walter has told you why you're here?"

"I'm to take on Sean's duties for the next twenty-four hours." Oh, God, please don't tell me that includes what I'm afraid it does, Mulder thought desperately.

Mason saw the panic and patted Mulder's cheek. "Relax, Mulder. I don't consider sleeping in my bed one of Sean's _duties_ but rather one of his rewards. Your virtue will be safe here."

"Thank you, sir," Mulder said, relieved, then realized how that sounded and flushed. "I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply-"

Mason chuckled. "You are new at this, aren't you, Mulder?"

Mulder flushed even more. "Yes, sir. Walter is my first - master."

"You're lucky, boy," Mason said. "He's the best top I ever trained."

Mulder's eyes widened. " _You_ , sir? You _trained_ him?"

"Did you think that tops sprang to life full-grown, like Athena from the head of Zeus?" Mason looked amused. "Sean!"

"Yes, Geoff?" Sean came out of the bedroom sketchily attired in a pair of sweat pants. Mulder thought that Sean moved a little stiffly as he crossed the room to snuggle up to Mason, but the face that he turned up to his top was tranquil and loving.

"Our new boy is here. I want you to instruct Mulder in his duties this morning, but you are _not_ to help him. I want you to take it easy." Mason's fingers were gentle as they touched his sub's cheek.

Sean grinned. "I'm not made of glass, Geoff. I'm fine."

"Indulge me, okay?" Mason kissed Sean gently. He turned to Mulder and said briskly, "All right. Time to get to work." Mason sat down in the armchair, then pointed to a spot on the floor in front of him and Mulder obediently knelt.

"Okay, Mulder, house rules. My boys wear jeans or sweat pants around the house, no shirts, and I only use collars and cuffs for training. I'll let you keep Walter's collar but take off the rest and put them and your bag in the bedroom, then come back here."

Mulder obeyed, noting when he returned that Sean had stretched out on the couch on his stomach. His guilt nearly choked him and he quietly knelt, bowing his head while he waited for Mason's next instructions. Mason's sharp eyes noted the passing of emotions over Mulder's face with satisfaction. When Skinner had proposed this as Mulder's punishment, Mason had been doubtful but he now acknowledged that Skinner knew his sub. Mulder was suffering more from Sean's punishment than he would have from his own physical punishment.

"While you are here, you will obey my orders without question. Is that understood, boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"In my absence, you are to obey Sean. You are brother subs, but he is the senior here, and he is to be respected as such." There was a knock on the door. "Breakfast, Mulder." Mulder went to the door and brought in the cart. "I take my coffee black, one sugar. Sean's is heavy on the milk, two sugars."

Mulder prepared the cups and gave Mason his cup, then set Sean's on the floor within easy reach. He returned to the cart and wondered what he was supposed to do about the food. Guess what they wanted? Ask? He glanced at Mason and saw the Secretary raise an eyebrow inquiringly. "Um - Sir?"

"Just bring the tray and I'll choose."

Mulder lifted the tray off the serving cart and carried it over to Mason, who looked up at him with a frown. "I don't need a crick in my neck, Mulder. Kneel."

Mulder tried to kneel while holding the tray but he overbalanced, tried to catch himself, failed, and lost the tray. The entire contents slid onto the floor - pastries, eggs, plates and all. The three men stared at the mess in silence, and then Sean buried his face in the sofa cushions from which choked sounds of mirth issued. Mulder wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

"Well, Mulder, your first task is going to be to clean the suite, top to bottom. Start in here, then the bedroom, and end with the playroom. And I expect you to do a thorough job." Mason drew a deep breath and stood up, carefully stepping over the mess on the floor. "I think I'll get my own breakfast. Sean, I'll be in my office if you need me."

Mulder looked down at the wreckage at his feet and then glared over at Sean whose was laughing hysterically on the couch. "Gee, thanks. I'm really appreciating the brotherly support here."

Sean lifted his streaming face from the cushions and tried to control his laughter. "C-can't help it. Should have seen - look on your face. And Geoff - " He gave up and collapsed back on the couch, screaming with laughter. Mulder couldn't help it - the laughter was so infectious that he started chuckling. He looked down at the mess at his feet.

"Well, guess I better get this cleaned up." Mulder scooped up the pastries and fruit and dumped them back onto the platter, then put the platter on the cart. He had just finished when there was a knock on the door. Mulder opened it to find one of the waiters.

"Oh - here for the cart?"

The waiter gestured to the plate in his hand. "Mr. Mason told me to give this to Sean personally and not, under any circumstances, to let Mulder near it." A wail from the couch told Mulder that Sean had succumbed to laughter again. Mulder gave him a sour look and went for the cleaning supplies.

Three hours later, Mulder had worked his way through the suite: dusting, vacuuming, windows even. Jesus, he thought, he didn't work this hard on his own place. And just why was he working so hard here? Because he owed Sean? Because he wanted Skinner to be proud of him? Or because Mason obviously didn't think he could do it?

Mulder reached the last room and he stood in the doorway for a moment, then swallowed hard. The playroom. He looked around slowly. Hooks in the wall, a "toy" cabinet, and a padded spanking bench. Nothing too scary, nothing that he hadn't read about, some of which he had seen in Skinner's suite. There was a strap lying out on the bench and he picked it up with shaking hands. Then he walked back into the living room.

Sean looked up from the book that he was reading and, at the expression on Mulder's face, pushed himself into a sitting position. "What is it, Mulder?"

Mulder looked down at the strap he was holding. "Sean, I'm so sorry - are you okay?"

Sean grinned back irrepressibly. "Hell, Mulder, it's not the first time I've had a whipping and it won't be the last."

"It's my fault."

"Mulder, sit. Now."

Mulder's head jerked up - he had never heard that authoritative tone from Sean before. He sat down on the floor by the couch.

"I don't know what your problem with _this_ is," and he pulled the strap out of Mulder's hand. "That's your business, and your man's, not mine. But just because you _don't_ doesn't mean that it's wrong. Geoff and I practice safe, sane and extremely consensual SM. Nothing happens to me with Geoff that I don't want to happen."

Mulder looked at him in disbelief. "You _wanted_ him to beat your ass? You gave him permission? Is it some kind of game?"

Sean shook his head. "Geoff and I don't play games. We live it, seven by twenty-four. I belong to Geoff and he doesn't need my permission to warm my ass - I gave him that when I became his boy. For whatever reason - for no reason. Usually it's for pleasure but sometimes it's for discipline - and don't get me wrong. I don't particularly like to be punished like last night, but I accept it because it's part of what we are. Those are our rules, Mulder, common enough in the lifestyle but not universal. If that's not your scene that's cool, but you dance around the issue halfway between fear and fascination. Make up your damn mind."

Mulder flushed, looking at his hands as if they were foreign objects, and cleared his throat. "What if - what if I don't know what I want? Hell, Sean, I'm new at this. I'd never even had sex with a man before Walter."

Sean got up off the couch, went to the bookshelf and pulled out a book that he tossed to Mulder. "Read this."

Mulder looked down at the book entitled, "The Bottoming Book: How to Get Terrible Things Done to You by Wonderful People". He swallowed hard. "Are you sure?"

"Trust me. Oh, and Mulder. Here's a tip. Before you kneel with a tray, lean your shoulders back slightly and keep your back straight. Less spillage."

Mulder threw a pillow at Sean.

* * *

Mason drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders before going through the door from his office to his suite, mentally preparing himself for carnage and disaster. To his surprise, all he heard was the murmur of two voices and, entering the living room, he found Sean and Mulder with their heads bent over a book, seriously discussing something they were reading.

"Hello, boys." Sean noticed his presence first and looked up with a smile, and Mulder popped to his feet. "Sit down, Mulder. How are you progressing on your morning chores?"

"Done, sir."

"Done?" Mason looked surprised. "Well, then, I had better take a look at your results." He carefully looked over the suite and found that the entire place was in perfect order. "Mulder, I'm impressed. Good work."

Mulder flushed, pleased by the praise. "Thank you, sir."

"Think you can manage lunch without destroying your hard work?"

Mulder smiled ruefully. "I think so, sir."

"Then go to the kitchen. Jean-Pierre will have our lunch ready. Bring it back here and set the table. Three places."

Mulder hurried out and Mason turned to Sean. "And what were you two up to when I came in?"

"Just furthering Mulder's education." He pointed at the book on the couch with a grin. "Giving him a little push in the right direction."

"You romantic softie, you."

Sean chuckled. "Can I help it if I like happy endings?"

* * *

The rest of the day went by slowly but uneventfully. Mason had Mulder do the laundry, then clean and oil all the leather in the playroom, and then Sean taught him how to give a proper massage. In between chores, Mulder read and talked to Sean. And after dinner, while Sean and Mason watched TV and talked, Mulder silently thought about how his life had changed since coming to the Club and wondered where his life was going.

"Bedtime, boys." Mason stood and stretched. "Mulder, your blankets are in the corner in the bedroom. You've had a busy day - go on to bed."

Mulder readied himself for bed and rolled up in the blankets, resigning himself to another uncomfortable night on the floor. He was tired but ached too much to fall asleep right away. Mason and Sean came into the room, laughing and talking quietly, and began to undress. He hastily turned on his side with his back to them to give them some privacy. Oh God, were they going to - yes, they were. Had Mason forgotten that he was there? He cleared his throat loudly.

Mason lifted his head from Sean's neck and glanced over at Mulder's corner. "Problem, Mulder?"

"Um - I thought - perhaps you'd forgotten I was here."

Mason sighed. "I could hardly forget that, Mulder."

"Should I – should I go in the other room, sir?"

"Uncomfortable, boy?"

"Um - yes, sir."

"Get over it. This is a fact of our lifestyle. You'll have to get used to this if Walter takes another sub." Mason returned his attention to Sean who didn't seem in the least bit disturbed to have an audience.

Mason's words made Mulder's blood go cold. Walter - with another sub? Having to share Walter’s time and attention - and his bed? Skinner had said that he had quit this lifestyle but now he was back and seemed to enjoy it - maybe Skinner _would_ decide to take on another. Someone less troublesome. Mulder swallowed hard.

The noises from the bed had intensified and Mulder found his attention irresistibly drawn toward the pair. He had watched a lot of porn but not gay porn, and he had never realized before how beautiful lovemaking between two men could be. Fascinated by the sight, amazed at his voyeurism, he watched as Mason skillfully drove Sean toward a climax so shattering that Mulder had to turn away to catch his own breath and gain control over his own body. He was so aroused that he longed to jerk himself off but knew that he couldn't do that without attracting attention. He sighed and concentrated on sports statistics and the more gruesome aspects of his latest case until his erection subsided.

From behind him came the sound of soft kisses and murmured voices and Mulder rolled over onto his back, casting a quick look at the bed. In the semi-darkness he could discern the two figures snuggled on the bed. A sudden lump filled his throat and he turned away again. He missed Walter desperately, missed the feeling of the other man around and in him, missed the heat of their passionate couplings, and missed the tender kisses and snuggling afterwards. Two nights wasted, he thought bitterly, and all for nothing. And tomorrow was the Monday holiday and he would go back to his apartment and another workweek would begin. He envied Sean and Geoff, and wondered what it would be like to have more than just weekends together.

Dangerous, that's what it would be like, he thought wryly. Their enemies already knew about them but they were protected here at the Club - too many influential and powerful people were patrons here. If they attempted to have a relationship outside they would be targets. Still, he allowed himself to fantasize coming home to Skinner after a busy day, discussing work and other interests over dinner. Other interests - he didn't even know what Skinner's favorite teams were, or his reading preferences, although he did know the exact spot on Skinner's neck that drove him crazy. Nights stretched out on the sofa watching TV and then going to bed together. His eyes drifted shut and, smiling at the mental pictures, he fell asleep.

* * *

"Mulder! Mulder, wake up!"

Mulder stirred and sat up, awakened by Mason's urgent voice. "Sir?"

"I need your help here. Fetch a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge and bring it into the bathroom." Mason disappeared into the bathroom and Mulder hurried to do as he said. When he returned to the bathroom, he found Sean huddled on the floor next to the toilet, his head leaning back against Mason's shoulder with the other man's arms wrapped around him. Mason looked up and took the bottle with a nod of thanks, then turned back to Sean.

"Okay, baby, here's your medicine and something to wash it down. Slowly, now. That's it."

Mulder left them alone, stripped the sheets off the bed and remade it with clean sheets and blankets, then returned to the bathroom. "The bed's ready, sir. Do you need help moving him?"

Mason looked up, surprised. "Thank you, Mulder. I've got him." He stood, sweeping the smaller man up in his arms and carried him into the bedroom, settling him down on the remade bed. Sean was drifting already, and Mason leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"Go back to sleep, baby. I'll come back to bed in a few minutes." Mason belted on a robe and went into the living room, while Mulder gathered the soiled linens and carried them into the laundry room to soak. As he passed back through the living room, he saw that Mason was on the phone.

" - No, there wasn't any blood, and no sign of fever. Yes, the anti-nausea medicine stopped it. Do you think it’s just reaction to the new medicine? All right, I'll bring him in tomorrow." Mason hung up the phone and sat staring into space.

"Sir, can I get you anything?"

"Scotch. Two fingers. Neat." Mulder poured the drink and handed it to him. "Thanks. Go back to bed, Mulder."

"Yes, sir." Mulder turned toward the bedroom.

"Wait, Mulder." Mulder turned back and found Mason's sharp eyes on him. "I understand from Walter that you are prone to 'rush in where angels fear to tread'. Next time - _before_ you do something life-threatening and dangerous - I want you to take a moment to think about how precious life is, how stupid it is to waste it, and how many people would suffer at your loss."

There was a bright sheen of unshed tears in Mason's eyes and, unexplainably, the sight made Mulder's throat tighten. "Yes, sir," he said lowly. "I will."

Mason covered his eyes with his hand. "That'll be all. Go to bed, Mulder."

Mulder quietly returned to his bed on the floor but it was a long time before he fell back asleep.

* * *

Mason woke Mulder with a gentle nudge of his foot in Mulder's ribs. "Wake up, Mulder. Daylight's wasting."

Mulder hauled himself to his feet and into the bathroom where he sponge-bathed and changed into his spare sweat pants, then the breakfast cart was there and he prepared two cups of coffee. He studied Sean with sharp eyes as he gave him his coffee but the young man seemed fine this morning.

As Mulder went for the tray, Mason opened his mouth to say something but Sean shook his head at him. He shut his mouth and waited in resignation. To his surprise, Mulder managed to kneel with the tray without incident and Mason selected his breakfast.

There was a knock on the door and Mulder returned the tray to the cart then went to the door. Skinner stood there, and Mulder stood for a moment just drinking in the sight of him, unaware of how his whole face had lit up.

"Good morning, sir," he said softly, then turned toward Mason. "Sir, Mr. Skinner is here."

"Come in, Walter. Mulder - breakfast for our guest."

Mason began talking about Club business with Skinner while Mulder fixed a cup of coffee the way that Skinner liked it and set it down on the table at Skinner's elbow. Skinner watched in amused surprise as Mulder brought over the serving tray and knelt so that Skinner could select his choice, and he resisted an urge to stroke the sleek head at his knee. Mulder returned the plate to cart and returned to kneel before Mason, awaiting further orders.

"Time to go home, Mulder," he said with a smile. "Go pack your bag."

"Yes, sir!" Mulder hurried into the bedroom and Mason chuckled while Skinner hid a smile.

"Well, you were right and I was wrong, Walter," Mason admitted. "He's a much better sub than I would have imagined. But you do realize that he's a one-master sub, don't you? He did well here out of a desire to reflect well on _you_ , not a general desire to please. Hell of a lot of responsibility, Walter."

"I know," Skinner said softly. "But I think it's worth it."

"I hope so." Mason looked up as Mulder returned and knelt by his feet again. He reached out to ruffle Mulder's hair. "You did very well, Mulder. I was pleased with your work. Just remember our little talk and perhaps you'll live longer." He clipped the leash on Mulder's collar. "Here you go, Walter. Take him away."

Both men were quiet as they returned to their suite although Mulder snuck frequent sidelong glances at Skinner. His discovery of the extent of his feelings for Skinner made him feel a little shy and tongue-tied. He hoped that Skinner wasn't still angry with him, and longed for a reassuring smile or gesture.

Once they reached the room, Skinner unfastened the leash and went to the cabinet to hang it up. Mulder stood uncertainly by the door, wondering what he should do now.

"Well, Fox," Skinner said, turning back toward him. "Geoff tells me that you performed your duties well and didn't give him any trouble. I'm very pleased."

"Does this mean that you're not mad at me anymore?" Mulder asked hopefully. "Are we okay?"

Skinner smiled. "One of the unspoken rules in D/s is that once the punishment is over, the matter is closed. You made a mistake, you paid the price, and the subject will never be brought up again."

Mulder sighed in relief. "I like that rule."

"There's another one that you'll like even better," Skinner said, and the silky seductiveness in his voice made Mulder shiver. "And that rule is that good behavior is rewarded appropriately."

Mulder's eyes lit up and he moved closer to Skinner. "And just what kind of reward would that be, sir?"

"That could depend," Skinner said, softly kissing Mulder. "On how inspired I get."

"Oh, I think I can inspire you, Walter," Mulder said, returning the kiss as he slid his arms around Skinner's waist. "I've been doing a little reading…"


	11. Ratboys and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratboy comes out of the woodwork and the past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Shelter From the Storm" by Michael Bolton

_People in this world can be blind and so demanding_  
_Show so little understanding._ _  
And in these desperate times seems like everything's deceivin'_  
_There ain't much you can believe in._ _  
Let me be the one you come to_ _  
Show you one thing trust is always here_ _  
Let me be your cover, whenever darkness falls_  
_I'll be there, I'll be there._

 

Krycek had been surveying his targets for the past eight weeks, noting their patterns and their habits. When Skinner left the room alone, in sweats, he knew how long he had. He used an altered access card to enter the room and looked around carefully. Mulder lay sprawled on his back on the bed, his lean, naked body outlined by a sheet twisted around his middle. Sound asleep, he managed to look both innocent and debauched, and Krycek had to fight down a spurt of anger. That wouldn't help. He needed to be cool, calm, and focused on his goal.

He saw with satisfaction that Mulder was wearing wrist and ankle cuffs and carefully set about attaching them to the rings on the bed. Mulder stirred briefly, muttering in his sleep, and Krycek froze until the other man drifted back to sleep. He was on the last ankle cuff when he felt Mulder stir again.

"God, Walter, you're a mink," Mulder groaned. "I'm exhausted - I need to get some sleep."

Anger and jealousy flared again, making Krycek rough with the last buckle.

"Hey!" Mulder protested, his eyes opening reluctantly. He saw Krycek standing at the foot of the bed and his breath caught, his eyes widening in shock.

"Surprise."

Mulder struggled against the bindings. "Krycek! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Paying a little social call - oh, too bad, you seem to be all tied up."

"Krycek, if you lay a hand on me, I swear I'll kill you!"

"Relax, Mulder," Krycek said with a smirk as he sat on the bed beside the furious captive. "I don't have any designs on your virtue." He watched Mulder struggle for a moment. "Although I may get ideas if you continue doing that."

Mulder stopped and glared at Krycek. "What in hell is this about, Ratbastard?"

"Actually, I'm here to do you a service."

"No, thanks."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Mulder. I haven't got time for that today. Skinner will be back in an hour. Although," he said, casting an appreciative glance down his captive's body, "I could be persuaded to come back another time."

Mulder glared. "Not in this lifetime, Krycek."

Krycek shrugged. "Your loss."

"So you want to get to the real purpose for this visit? Not that I'm not enjoying this witty repartee…"

"Good to see that expensive education didn't go to waste."

"Krycek, so help me - " Mulder pulled against the cuffs.

"You ever hear that patience is a virtue? As I recall, that's one of our mutual friend's favorite sayings."

Mulder went completely still. "What is this about?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Krycek repressed a shudder at that flat, murderous tone but also smiled inwardly. Bingo - Mulder's weak spot. "I've got something to tell you."

"And you couldn't just pick up a phone? Drop me a letter?"

"I needed to tell you face-to-face. The restraints are to keep you from hitting me while I talk."

"So I'm listening."

"You've been set up, Mulder. Hell, we both were. My - patron has arranged all this." He gestured around him. "When I met you at the other club, when the smoking bastard was alerted - it was all planned. Then he let Skinner know so that he'd show up here - "

"No," Mulder said sharply. "I heard the tape of that conversation. He was just as surprised as I was - "

"Oh, come on, Mulder. You know how convincing an actor he can be - remember that cover-up?"

Mulder shook his head. "No. He didn't know - "

"And it was just coincidence that he was a member here? _Please_ \- I know you're not _that_ dumb."

"I'm not so dumb that I'd believe you over Walter."

"Really? I'd be willing to bet he never told you about _us_."

"You'd lose, Ratboy." The voice was quiet and steady. "Walter told me that he brought you here."

Damn, thought Krycek. He had counted on Skinner's reticence, thought Mulder would be shocked and hurt by this knowledge. He thought quickly.

"And did he tell you what he did to me here?"

"Not interested, Krycek."

"You're a bright boy, Mulder. I'll bet you know all about escalation. Well, I didn't. Believe it or not, I was pretty naïve back then." Krycek turned slightly, pretending to stare pensively at the wall.

"You were never naïve. You were born a lying bastard."

Krycek ignored him, warming to his story. "It started so innocently. Dominance games, fantastic sex, an occasional swat on the ass. Then the belts and the whips - "

"Shut up, damn you!"

Krycek risked a sideways glance at Mulder, and saw that the other man was furious, pulling at the wrist restraints. He frowned slightly - this was not quite the effect he had wanted. He needed a slight shift of focus.

"And you wonder why I took it, why I let him do that to me?"

Krycek looked away from Mulder briefly to hide a reminiscent smile: damn but those had been hot scenes. No one had ever handled him with that combination of authority and caring before or since. He had loved how he could push Skinner into darker games and how Skinner always pulled him back from the edge. It had hurt like hell when Skinner had suggested that they end their encounters. His mouth tightened at that memory.

"I guess it was because I was used to it. My father used to beat me, you know." He glanced over at Mulder and saw with satisfaction that Mulder had gone still again. "The old man used to haul off and hit me for no reason when I was growing up, beat me black and blue sometimes. Skinner reminded me of him, I suppose."

Another glance at Mulder and he saw that the man was white around the mouth. A little too close to home, Mulder? he thought, and decided it was time to stir Mulder's temper again. "So is that the attraction, Mulder?" he said mockingly. "Reminds you of Daddy?"

"Shut up, Krycek."

Almost a whisper, and he saw that Mulder's eyes were squeezed shut. Whoops, he thought a little uneasily. Maybe I went too far that time. Gently, he said, "I just wanted you to know the truth."

"You wouldn't know the truth if it hit you in the face, Ratbastard. Which, incidentally, I would love to be doing right now."

He smiled a little; that was the old Mulder he knew and loved. He leaned over and unbuckled one wrist, moving quickly out of reach. "I'm leaving now. With one hand undone you'll be able to get the rest." He grinned mockingly at Mulder. "Wouldn't want the old man to get suspicious, now would we? No telling what he might think - or do."

He heard Mulder's voice cursing at him as he slipped out the door with a smile.

* * *

The Assistant Secretary entered the Secretary's private suite and Sean looked up from where he lay on the couch. "Mr. Matthews, one of the young men on your Watch list just left these at the desk."

Sean sat up and stretched out a hand. "Which one?"

"Mr. Mulder."

Sean looked at the envelopes in his hand. One was addressed to "Walter Skinner" and the other to "Dionysus Club Management". He tore open the second one and a gold bracelet fell out. The enclosed letter politely asked to be removed from the membership book.

"Damn!" he muttered. "What can have happened?"

Mason entered at that moment. "Sean, we had an unauthorized card access -"

Sean closed his eyes. "Let me guess - Mr. Skinner's suite?"

"How'd you know?"

In reply, Sean held up the envelopes. "Okay," he said, thinking fast. He turned to the Assistant Secretary. "Find Mr. Skinner and tell him Mr. Mulder was called away on an emergency. Remember - calm, reassuring words. Get all the access codes changed as well. I'm going to go talk to Mulder."

* * *

Mulder had driven around aimlessly for an hour before going home. Slowly he walked down the hallway, then froze when he caught a glimpse of a small, red-haired figure in the shadows by his door. He sighed; he didn't think he could deal with Scully now.

The figure came out of the shadows. "Hey, Mulder."

"Sean?"

"Yeah. I was in the area and thought I'd drop by."

"And how did you know where I live?"

Sean grinned. "I'll tell you, mate - inside."

Mulder sighed and unlocked the door, ushering Sean in. "Now do you want to explain what's going on here?"

"This." Sean pulled out the two envelopes.

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Those are private - "

Sean held up the second one and the bracelet. "This one is addressed to me. What's going on, Mulder? Last week you seemed to be fine with all this - you were even relaxing about the B&D stuff. So what happened?"

Mulder was still stunned by Sean's revelation. " _You're_ the management?"

Sean grinned. "You think just because I like being submissive in bed that I can't use my brain?"

"Um - "

"Outsider thinking, Mulder. You should know better by now." Sean sat down in a chair and made himself comfortable. "Want to hear a story?"

Mulder shrugged. "Sure."

Sean waited while Mulder settled on the couch. "Once upon a time - "

"A fairy tale?"

Sean grinned. "It's appropriate. Anyway, there was a wealthy Australian businessman who married late in life and had one child, a son, heir to his kingdom. Imagine his shock one day when he found his teenaged heir in bed with another boy. So he decided to send his son to University in America, Land of John Wayne and other Manly Men, away from Bad Influences. Got him into the best schools." He paused and grinned. "Know how many gay and leather bars there are in Boston?"

Mulder snorted. "I grew up on the Vineyard."

"Homeboy!" Sean said, delighted. "Anyway, I got into the leather scene, which really narked Dear Old Dad. But, like I said, he loved me and so he decided to make sure that I had safe playmates. Some kids get a car for graduation - I got this place."

"He bought you the club?"

Sean laughed. "He bought the property, got together a Board of Directors from influential friends, but I _made_ this Club. I _am_ my father's son."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Geoffrey, of course, and the senior staff."

"You mean you're Geoff's boss? And you let him beat you the other week?"

" _Let_ him? Mulder, I'm the bottom and he's the top, and that's part of the dynamic of our relationship. He whipped me because I broke the rules."

"Broke - damn it, Sean, you own the place! You should be able to access guests' rooms!" Mulder was getting angry, remembering his own guilt feelings in getting Sean into trouble and the penance that he had performed.

"I may own the place but Geoff runs it. And just because I _can_ doesn't mean I _should_. I knew better. I should have talked you out of it. I didn't and that's why I got punished."

"So none of the other subs know about this?"

"No." There was a warning note in his voice. "I can't help unless the others think I'm just 'one of the boys'."

"Help what?"

"Other subs. Over the years, I've done just about everything, good and bad, and made every mistake. A couple years back I got into a mess and Geoff pulled me out of it, kept me sane, got me help. So I decided that I would do the same for others. I keep a lookout for new subs, and for those in trouble, like you. Try to give them a hand, advice, or just a sympathetic ear. And you look like you could use that right now." He held up the bracelet again. "So - you want to talk? Or do you want to walk out on the best thing that ever happened in your life?"

Mulder looked up and then away. "I don't think you'd understand."

"Does it have anything to do with an unauthorized entry to your suite?" Mulder looked up, startled. "Did someone hurt you, Mulder?"

Mulder sighed. "An acquaintance of mine paid me a visit. He tied me up and said he had something to tell me."

"Some friends you have, Mulder."

"I didn't say he was a friend." Mulder looked down at his hands. "He implied that - that I am looking for a daddy-substitute in Walter to make up for my childhood."

Sean shrugged. "So?"

"Isn't there something - wrong with that?"

"Hell, Mulder, that's a common dynamic in lots of gay relationships. Particularly when the 'son' in the relationship comes from a dysfunctional family. Even people in 'normal' het relationships are often looking for elements missing from their childhood." He paused, looking at Mulder. "Have you talked to Walter about this? About your childhood?"

Mulder shook his head. "He wouldn't understand…"

"I think you're underestimating him. In any case, he deserves more than this." Sean held up the envelope. "This is a coward's way out, and you are not a coward." Mulder snorted. "Cowards never walk back through the Club doorway a second time." Sean pulled out his cell phone. "Geoff? Is Mr. Skinner still there? Good. Don't let him leave - I don't care what you have to do: talk to him, sit on him, whatever it takes. We're on our way." He stood up. "Coming, Mulder?"

Mulder sighed and stood up. "You're awfully pushy for a sub."

Sean grinned. "Ain't I, though? Make Geoff's life hell, although I _do_ make it up to him in other ways." Mulder flushed and Sean laughed. "Mulder, you are _such_ an innocent. Come on - let's get out of here."

* * *

Sean knocked on the suite door and the Secretary opened it. Mulder looked past him to Skinner who looked surprised.

"Mulder! Are you okay? I heard there was an emergency."

Mulder looked at the Secretary, puzzled.

"Walter, we told you that to give Sean time to talk with Mr. Mulder. I think he's got something to talk with you about." Mason exchanged a look with Sean who nodded and they slipped out the door.

Skinner looked puzzled but went to Mulder and gently touched his cheek. "What is it, Fox?"

Mulder took a deep breath and let it out. "I've got some things to tell you, and I need you to listen. And you'll probably want to sit down."

"Are you in trouble, Fox?"

Mulder shook his head. "It's nothing like that, Walter. Please - sit down."

Skinner sat down on the couch and waited. Mulder took another deep breath, sat down at the other end of the couch. He pulled the envelopes and bracelet out of his pocket and laid them on the couch between them. Skinner looked down at the items, then back up at Mulder's face, startled.

"You…want to break the contract?"

"No, but I started to," Mulder said softly. "When I've finished talking, _you_ may want to end this."

"I can't imagine anything that would make me want to end this - unless _you_ no longer needed it." He reached out and picked up the bracelet. "A couple hours ago you seemed to be fine. What happened?"

"Krycek broke into the room after you left and tied me up."

Skinner's eyes blazed. "I'll kill that bastard - "

"He didn't hurt me," Mulder said quickly. "He just wanted to talk."

"A hell of a way to hold a conversation, but then we're talking about Krycek. What did he want to talk about?"

Mulder sighed. "He - I think he wanted to break us up. He tried to tell me that you were involved in the setup to get me here."

"And you believed _Krycek_?"

"No, of course not," Mulder said impatiently. "I know you better than that."

"So what else did he say?"

"He tried to convince me that you were an escalating sadist," Mulder said with a sigh. "Then - then he suggested that I'm using you as a father-substitute to recreate my abusive childhood."

"Oh, shit," Skinner said, closing his eyes briefly and taking a breath. He opened his eyes and reached out to take Mulder's hand. "Fox, talk to me."

Mulder looked down at their joined hands. "Sean says that's a common dynamic in the gay B&D scene."

"He's right," Skinner said softly. "The Daddy-boy relationship is one variation, as is the master-slave scenario. There _are_ some elements of that in the way we relate, but I think our dynamics are pretty unique."

Mulder drew a shaky breath. "Walter - I - "

"Come here," Skinner said softly, holding open his arms. Mulder slid across the couch and buried his face against Skinner's chest. Skinner folded his arms around Mulder. "It's okay, Fox. I'm here. And I'm not going to let you go."

"I did have a shitty childhood," Mulder muttered.

"I know, babe. Want to talk about it?"

"I - don't know if I can - "

Skinner stroked the soft, dark hair gently. "Just take your time. We’re not going anywhere." Skinner shifted a little so that Mulder was cradled comfortably along his body. For a long time he sat there, just stroking his hair and murmuring soft and reassuring nonsense words, until he felt Mulder relax.

Mulder lay with his eyes closed, listening to the steady heartbeat under his head. It was soothing and as solid as the warm arms around him. "We were okay until Sam - " He swallowed. "We weren't the Waltons, but we were okay. Then - afterward - they stopped talking. To each other. To me. Meals were a nightmare - guess that's why I have food issues now. Mom - was in her own world. And Dad - he was hardly at home, and when he was he didn't seem to know I was there." He was quiet and Skinner gently rubbed his back. "Sometimes I would act up to get his attention, you know?"

Skinner smiled. "I know." He had borne the brunt of Mulder's attention-getting behavior for years. "What did he do, Mulder?"

"He would yell at me. And sometimes hit me."

"Yell, or verbally abuse you?"

Mulder was silent but Skinner could feel hot tears soak through his shirt. He continued stroking Mulder's back, waiting patiently for Mulder to continue. After long moment, Mulder cleared his throat and rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," Skinner said gently. "What did he say to you, Fox?"

It came out in staggered sentences, in a voice raw with emotion. "He said that Samantha was gone because of me. And I - I couldn't remember what had really happened. He said I was a weakling - a cock-sucking faggot."

"God, Fox - "

"Well, he was right about me being gay. Maybe - maybe he was right about the rest…" The voice trailed off, the thin body shaking again.

"Easy, Fox. Slow breaths." When Mulder had relaxed again, he said softly, "Mulder, you're a psychologist - surely you don't believe that?"

"I don't know what I believe."

"You were a child, Mulder, a twelve year old boy. You couldn't have stopped them - whoever _they_ were - from taking your sister if you were the Arnold Schwartzenager of pre-teens." A shaky laugh from Mulder encouraged him. "Did your father drink, Mulder? Did he say these things when he was drunk?"

"In vino veritas - "

"Bullshit," Skinner said succinctly. "I've found most people use that as an excuse to say whatever they want without the polite veneer of manners. Your father had his own problems. He shouldn't have taken them out on you. And it doesn't matter if you are gay, straight, bisexual, whatever - you are a worthwhile person."

Mulder grinned despite himself. "Whatever?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure if aliens have genders or not."

He snickered. "You think I'm doin' it with aliens?"

"Well, if you are it had better be safe sex." He put in the little growl that he knew Mulder loved.

Mulder broke into outright laughter, a sound that delighted Skinner. "You're nuts, Walter. Did you know that?"

"Close association with you, obviously." He stretched his legs a little. "You're putting my legs to sleep, babe. Let's stretch out on the bed and I'll hold you."

Mulder slipped off his lap. "I'm not, you know."

"Not what?"

"Having sex with aliens. Or anyone else for that matter, safe or otherwise. Just you."

Skinner grinned. "I know. Bed, Mulder."

Mulder crawled into the bed and snuggled up next to Skinner. He remembered his worry the previous weekend that the top might look for a less troublesome sub and looked at Skinner anxiously. "You don't want any other subs, do you?"

Skinner looked amused. "I can hardly handle the one I've got now." Skinner kissed Mulder's forehead gently. "No, babe. I've got no one else in mind - not here and not in real life."

Mulder tilted his head up to return the kiss on Skinner's lips, then snuggled back down into Skinner's shoulder and fell asleep with the ease of a child. And as Skinner watched Mulder drift into sleep he felt that phantom kiss on his lips like a promise or a dream.

* * *

There was a soft knock on the door and Skinner slid out of the bed to answer it.

"Hi," Sean said softly. "How is he?"

"Sleeping." Skinner stepped back slightly so Sean could slip into the room. "Thanks for your help."

Sean shrugged. "No worries, mate. We subs have to stick together, right? Speaking of which - " He held up a cardkey. "Key to his - um - friend's room. I'll need it back before Geoff notices it's missing."

"How did you - "

Sean grinned. "Just do me a favor - don't kill him. And don't tell Geoff. I don't need that kind of trouble again."

Skinner nodded, then glanced hesitantly at Mulder. "I don't want to leave him alone - not after what happened last time."

Sean nodded. "I'll watch him. Go on."

* * *

Krycek looked up at the sound of the cardkey in the lock. Shit - the old gentleman was back a day early. He pulled his shirt back off and, while temporarily blinded, found himself slammed against a wall.

"You!"

"Surprise." Skinner's eyes were cold and hard, and Krycek felt a hollow sensation in his stomach.

"What - what are you doing here?"

"Paying a little social call on _you_. Be thankful that I don't tie you up and leave you till your owner gets back to deal with you."

"How - "

Skinner smiled grimly at him. "Tell me, do you like driving him to the edge of a breakdown, or is that just an additional benefit of your little mind-fucks?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Mulder. The man who practically cried himself to sleep in my arms." He saw the tightening of Krycek's mouth at that and leaned closer. "I take it that the cracks about his father were shots in the dark just trying to break us up but, as usual, you shoot straight. Well, it didn't work, Krycek. He's still with me, so you gave him some additional trauma for _nothing_." He tightened his hold on Krycek. "I'd like to beat the hell out of you but you'd like it too much, so I won't."

Krycek snorted. "That wasn't funny the first time I heard it and your delivery didn't improve it."

Skinner pressed him harder into the wall. "I know _all_ your games, Krycek. And I know that you can't stand the thought of Mulder and me together. But tell me - who are you the most jealous of: me - or Mulder?"

Krycek's eyes blazed at him. "You wish. I think you're losing your touch, old man. You couldn't even get Mulder into your bed on your own. You got him through a cheat, through this game."

"And it must be killing you to know that _you're_ the one who brought him to this club, the one who pushed him into my bed," Skinner growled. He leaned closer to Krycek, their faces inches apart, and said in hard, quiet voice with an edge of mockery, "So, in gratitude for what you have accidentally brought to my life, I'm going to let you live. Live a long, long time, Krycek and watch what you can _never_ have."

Krycek ground his teeth together, hatred burning in his eyes. "Damn you to hell, Skinner! I intend to live long enough to see you walk out on _him_. And then I'll kill you for it."

Skinner pushed back slightly and studied the other man's face, his anger receding. "Is that what this is about? I didn't walk out on you - we didn't have a contract. I broke it off because our games had gotten dangerous."

"I wasn't complaining. And you liked it, too, despite what you say now."

"It might have still been 'consensual', but it had gone way past 'safe' and 'sane'." In a gentler voice, he said, "I'm never walking out on Mulder. I've given him a collar." Krycek looked up sharply at the words and the soft tone, and saw the same gentle expression on Skinner's face that he had seen years before when Skinner had ended it. "I may not have handled _our_ situation well, but Alex, give him a break. Let him be happy."

Krycek looked away, biting his lip to keep back sudden tears. He was barely aware that Skinner had released him, but the sound of the door closing behind Skinner was as loud as thunder in his ears. And, as he slid down the wall to the floor, he felt hot, painful tears run down his face.


	12. Thankful Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner get together for turkey and football, and discover a new depth to their relationship. Chapter quote comes from "Can't Get Close Enough to You" by Michael Bolton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: 1) We interrupt your regularly scheduled Angst and BDSM for a little schmoop. What with the Benett-fiasco and Krycek's intrusion, the guys have been denied their minimum chapter requirements of sex and snuggle-bunny-time, so this should just about catch them up. Next chapter we'll return to BDSM (in spades!!!) with Severe Angst in the following chapter, so enjoy the break. 2) Okay, I admit it. The whole "kitten" thing was a shaggy-dog setup just for this story and Skinner's line (around page 10 in the html format - you'll know it when you get there). If you have the first X-Files CD/tape, refer to song #5 "* Me Kitten" for the reference/joke. Groans and flames cheerfully accepted, although too much abuse may make me unable to get out the next chapter .

_Baby, you're the last thing that I had planned_ _  
Got me livin' in the palm of your hand_ _  
The more I have of you the less I understand_  
_How you give me so much_ _  
And I just never get enough_   
_Can't get close enough._

 

Skinner caressed the sleek back under his hand gently, reveling in the delicious afterglow of good sex. Mulder's body was half-splayed across his and he enjoyed the warm heaviness of the man. Mulder's eyes were half-opened and there was a smile on his face, and it was an incredible ego boost to know he had put that smile there. And it occurred to Skinner again that, although he knew all of Mulder's erogenous areas and every button to push to drive him towards climax, he knew little of the man inside. Skinner took a deep breath and plunged into the topic that had been on his mind all week.

"Fox, what are you doing on Thanksgiving?"

Mulder shrugged. "Sleeping in. Watching some games."

"Not spending it with your mother?"

"We don't do holidays." The tone was brusque, firmly closing off that subject. After hearing about Mulder's childhood from the young man on the previous day, Skinner was not surprised.

"I usually go to my brother's house, but they're expecting their second child any day and I've got a meeting with the Director on Wednesday. I hate traveling on holidays, so I'm staying here." He took another breath. "You want to spend it with me? Thanksgiving, I mean."

Mulder opened his eyes fully and tilted his head back to get a good look at Skinner's face. "You want to spend Thanksgiving _here_?"

"No. My place. You could come over mid-day; we could watch the games together. I'll cook dinner."

"You cook?"

"Mulder, you wound me! I'm actually a good cook."

"Guess I should have figured that out, as obsessed as you are with filling my stomach."

Skinner looked at him provocatively. "That's not _all_ I'm obsessed with filling." He noticed that Mulder hadn't replied to the invitation and said gently, "No pressure, Fox. No Dom/sub games. Just two friends enjoying a couple of games together."

Mulder closed his eyes to hide how much he wanted to accept the invitation, how much he needed to be with Skinner. This is not a relationship, he told himself firmly.

"Okay," he said finally. "I'll bring the beer."

"Sounds good. Now, about those areas of you that I am obsessed with filling…"

* * *

Mulder pressed on the buzzer, feeling a little nervous like the first time he had gone to pick up his date at her parent's house. Skinner opened the door with a smile, stood back for him to enter, and delicious scents wafted into the hallway.

"Mmm. Smells good."

"Told you I could cook."

Mulder held up the bag. "Beer?"

"Fridge." Skinner pointed the way, and Mulder managed to find some room for the bottles. "Hey, no sampling before dinner!" he admonished as Mulder peered at the other contents of the fridge.

"So when do we eat?"

"An hour. Sound good to you?"

Mulder nodded agreement and Skinner led the way to the living room, turning on the TV. Mulder whistled. "Large screen? I know where I'm watching the Superbowl."

Skinner snorted and tossed him the remote. "Find the channel while I make sure everything is okay in here."

Mulder located the pre-game show and settled into a corner of the couch, and Skinner joined him shortly. They argued companionably about the teams playing, which carried them into a wider discussion of their favorite teams, and that took them into the sports they had played in high school. Then it was time to eat. Skinner had decided that they were going to be casual and so they loaded their plates and carried them in on trays.

At the start of the second game, Mulder got up to fetch them each a beer and stretched out on his end of the couch after pulling off his shoes. Skinner decided that looked comfortable and did the same, their long legs resting companionably alongside each other. The second game was dull and, made sleepy by beer and full stomachs, they drifted off to sleep.

Skinner woke to a darkened room and the pleasant warmth of Mulder's legs against his. He reluctantly eased himself off the couch to relieve himself and turn on some lights. Mulder stirred at that, blinking his eyes, then headed off to the bathroom with a sigh.

"Pie?" Skinner called out to him from the kitchen when he returned and Mulder detoured into the kitchen.

"You made pie?"

"Pumpkin."

"You are so domestic, Walter," Mulder teased. "You'll make someone a great little wife someday."

"Smart-ass," Skinner snorted. "I _was_ going to offer you whipped cream for that pie, but now I'm having second thoughts."

"Well, there _are_ so many better uses for whipped cream."

Skinner turned and cocked his head sideways, smiling slowly. "Are you making a pass at me, Mulder?"

Mulder snorted. "After all that we've done over the past three months, _now_ you're getting coy?"

Skinner's eyes held Mulder's as he said, softly, "That's a game. Anything here is real life, between equals, no subs and Doms. Do you want that? And can you deal with it?"

Mulder's eyes were green and hot and he closed the distance between them. "Yes." Then he was pulling Skinner into his arms, kissing him hungrily, taking the lead and Skinner thought that he would go out of his mind from the sheer headiness of Mulder's kisses. Mulder was tugging off his clothes, caressing his skin, and Skinner was equally determined to strip the younger man.

He broke free from Mulder's mouth. "Couch," he gasped. "Bedroom's too far."

"Lube in my jacket," Mulder said, groaning as Skinner's hands caressed his exposed skin.

Skinner grinned at that. "Were you planning this, Mulder?"

"Be prepared is my motto."

"You were _never_ a Boy Scout."

They collapsed on the couch, Mulder on top of him caressing him with hands and mouth as if it had been four months instead of four days since they had last made love. Although, Skinner admitted, the events over the last three weekends had allowed them little time together - and certainly less sex than they had become accustomed to during the past three months.

"God, Mulder," he groaned. "I want you so badly."

Mulder slid down his body, straddling his legs as he rolled a condom on Skinner and slicked him then carefully prepared himself. Skinner watched, fascinated as always by Mulder's abandonment to the hedonistic pleasure of sex. Then Mulder was lowering himself onto Skinner's cock and it felt so good, so right. He took Mulder's cock in his hand, stroking him in sync with Mulder's slow movements. Mulder groaned and increased his rhythmic riding, and Skinner heard himself moaning and encouraging Mulder to move faster. Then he was exploding and Mulder was coming hard, too, before he collapsed weakly across Skinner's chest.

"Let me catch my breath - "

Skinner wrapped both arms around his lover and kissed the top of his head. "You're fine right here," he said.

"I'm too heavy - "

"I'm a big, tough, ex-Marine, remember? I think I can manage your weight."

Mulder chuckled, willingly resting his cheek against Skinner's shoulder. "Bet you were never in this situation back then."

"I refuse to discuss my past sex life on a first date."

Mulder laughed helplessly and Skinner grinned at the sensation of Mulder's body shaking in mirth against his. "You know you're crazy?" Mulder asked him when he could talk again.

"Wouldn't be the least bit surprised," Skinner said tranquilly. "I know that I'm crazy about you."

Mulder went still, and Skinner wondered if he had moved too fast. Was it too soon to tell Mulder that he loved him?

"Did you just say what I think you said?"

"If what you think I said was that I love you then, yeah, I did."

"Jesus, Walter," Mulder breathed. "Isn't that sort of breaking the rules - falling in love with your sub?"

"You're not my sub here, remember? And there's nothing in any rules against love," Skinner said softly, gently caressing Mulder's hair. He felt hot tears against his chest and his throat contracted. "Hey, what are those for? This is supposed to be a Kodak moment."

Mulder raised his head and gave him a crooked smile. "Yeah, well, I cry at those, too."

"Sap," said Skinner affectionately, and kissed him. He glanced over at the TV, which was still on. "Well, we missed most of this game, too. Why don't we get a shower and go to bed?"

"Sounds good to me." Mulder hauled himself off the couch and started up the stairs while Skinner shut down and locked up.

It wasn't till he was heading up the stairs himself that he realized Mulder hadn't said "I love you" in return.

* * *

Mulder was already in the shower when Skinner arrived upstairs and he joined the younger man, relieved at the welcoming smile. He had been half-afraid that Mulder would retreat into himself or even leave following Skinner's declaration. Instead, Mulder gave Skinner a soft kiss and began soaping him down. Skinner wrestled him good-naturedly for the soap, pinning Mulder to the wall to be thoroughly kissed. He felt rather than heard Mulder's laughter and released his lover's mouth to smile at him.

"What?"

"You're so butch," Mulder teased, then snatched the soap from Skinner's lax hand and ducked under his arm, retreating to the far end of the shower.

Skinner pursued and they wrestled playfully again, wet bodies sliding against one other. Increasing heat and their mouths sought each other, kisses deepening until they were breathlessly clinging together. As the water turned cold, they moved into the bedroom, barely stopping long enough to dry off before falling into the bed together. Once again, Skinner allowed Mulder to take the lead, consciously wanting this to be different from their "game" encounters. Mulder licked and kissed his way down Skinner's body, attacking first the nipples and then nipping along the taut stomach and down the thighs. He licked his way back up the thighs, then took Skinner's cock into his mouth and sucked hard.

Skinner gasped and pulled his lover back up to kiss him, murmuring in his ear, "I want you in me."

Mulder pulled back a little, staring at him in consternation. "Walter, I've never done that."

"I know, but I'm not inexperienced. I'll guide you."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. I trust you."

Mulder swallowed hard, apprehensive but growing more eager at the thought of being inside Skinner. He nodded. Skinner pulled away to rummage in the nightstand and brought out lube and condoms. The halt in love play and the surprise had lessened Mulder's erection and Skinner stroked him till he was hard again, then rolled on a condom and applied lubricant to it. He took Mulder's hand in his and squeezed some lube into his palm.

"Now you prepare me." He pulled his knees to his chest to give Mulder access.

Mulder carefully inserted a lubricated finger, amazed at the feeling of muscles tightening and relaxing around his finger. Slowly he stroked in and out, trying to duplicate the things that Skinner did to prepare and arouse him.

"Oh, yeah, babe," Skinner groaned. "That's great. You can add another finger."

Mulder did so, fascinated by the sight of his normally in-control lover writhing under his hands. This is how I look to him, he thought in amazement, this is what he sees when he does me.

"How do I - " He wriggled his fingers, trying to find the gland inside. Skinner reached down and grasped his wrist, turning his hand, and Mulder flexed his fingers, brushing against the prostate.

Skinner arched up against him. "Jesus!"

Mulder grinned, delighted to have provoked such a response. "Getting religion, Walter?"

"Smart-ass," Skinner growled. "God, Mulder, I need you in me. Now."

Mulder removed his fingers and gently pressed his cock against the opening. There was a slight pop as the head penetrated and then he was sliding fully in.

"Oh God, Walter," he groaned. "You feel incredible."

Skinner leaned up to kiss him, slowly and lovingly. "That's how you feel every time to me," he said, his voice low and soft and thick with passion.

Mulder began thrusting slowly, both men moaning from the sensation. Skinner grasped his own cock and stroked it, realizing that Mulder was too caught up in the new sensations to be able to focus on anyone else. He wrapped his legs around Mulder's waist, pulling him closer and Mulder groaned.

"God, Walter, you are so hot."

Skinner pulled his head back down and kissed him again. " _You_ are beautiful. And I'm not made of glass - you can fuck me harder."

Mulder grinned down at him, heady from the delicious sensations coursing through his body, and increased his thrusting slightly. "I recall _someone_ telling me that slow was good. And that patience was a virtue."

"I predict that _someone_ is asking for a butt-warming."

"And I thought you said you weren't into that."

"I _never_ said I was opposed to warming my _lover's_ ass when severely provoked," Skinner growled. God, Mulder could be so irritating when he was in this teasing mood, and he was so close to the edge…

Mulder laughed and stopped moving, just barely inside Skinner. "God, you just compartmentalize everything, don't you? Have you ever seriously thought that you might have Multiple Personality Disorder? Maybe I should reconsider this whole relationship thing. One of those personalities could be an ax-wielding serial killer."

"Not a chance," Skinner said, grinding his teeth in frustration. "Axes are so messy. I much prefer to strangle my victims in their sleep. _Particularly_ lovers who deliberately drive me crazy." He contracted his leg muscles, slamming Mulder into him hard, and growled, "Fuck me, Kitten."

Mulder glared at him. " _Don't. Call. Me. That_." He punctuated each word with a hard thrust. The rough movement pushed Skinner over the edge and he was suddenly coming. Mulder yelped as the interior muscles contracted and his eyes widened, then he was slamming into Skinner again and coming hard.

Mulder shakily slid out of Skinner and collapsed on his back next to him. "Jesus Fucking Christ. Why didn't you _tell_ me about that?"

Skinner chuckled, a little breathlessly but amused at the awe in his lover's voice. "Why else do you think I like to be deep inside you when you come?" He rolled up on one elbow on his side, smiling down into his lover's face. "So what did you think?"

"You have to ask?" Mulder grinned and snaked a hand behind Skinner's head to pull him down for a deep kiss. "Still prefer you in me, but I wouldn't mind a repeat of that."

"Anytime."

"Anytime?"

"Well, anytime _here_. Equal opportunity to get laid."

They pulled up the covers and settled into their customary sleeping positions with Mulder's head on Skinner's shoulder and their arms wrapped around each other. Skinner felt his eyes drifting closed.

"Walter?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you, too."

Skinner smiled and turned his head to kiss Mulder's hair. "Good."

"'Night, Walter."

"'Night…Kitten."

Outraged, Mulder hit him with a pillow.

* * *

When Skinner woke in the morning, he was alone in the bed.

He swore under his breath, then closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Okay, he knew that Mulder had a tendency to retreat from highly emotional situations. Give him space, approach him as if nothing was wrong -

Then he heard it - footsteps coming up the stairs. And, as the door opened, smelt the aroma of just-brewed coffee. Mulder came through the door dressed in jeans and T-shirt, coffee mug in one hand and an overnight bag in the other. He dropped the bag just inside the doorway and crossed to set the coffee mug on the nightstand.

"'Morning, sleepyhead," he said cheerfully.

Skinner pushed himself up in bed. "The Fox Mulder I know is _never_ this cheerful in the morning. Who are you, and what have you done with the real Mulder."

Mulder grinned at him and tugged his T-shirt over his head as he toed off his shoes. "Oh, I think I can prove it's me to your satisfaction." He dropped his jeans.

"So why were you dressed in the first place?" Skinner asked, curiously.

"Had to fetch my bag from my car and I didn't think your neighbors would appreciate a naked man running through the building," Mulder said with a grin. He crawled in on his side of the bed and began nipping at Skinner's neck.

"Why didn't you bring it up with you yesterday?"

Mulder looked a little sheepish. "Didn't want to presume."

Skinner put his arms around Mulder and said softly, "Babe, feel free to presume anytime."

Mulder grinned again and crawled into his lap. "Mmm. I'd watch out if I were you. You never know _what_ I might presume to do."

"I'm not worried. You go too far and I'll just trot out that serial killer personality."

"Ooh, Walter, you know what I like."

* * *

A long while later, Skinner lay drowsing sleepily after another round of lovemaking, enjoying the warmth of his lover's body next to him. He kissed the soft hair under his chin. "Got anything planned for the rest of the weekend?"

Mulder looked up at him, puzzled. "Just a hot date with my Dom."

"Mind if we blow that off and do something different?"

"What have you got in mind?"

"I have a cabin in the mountains. Great jogging trails, fireplace, very private. I'll make you pancakes or waffles for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"I don't think I have clothes for the mountains. All I brought was a change of underwear and socks." He grinned at Skinner. "I've found that extra clothes are a waste around you."

Skinner laughed and nuzzled Mulder's neck. "You can borrow some of my flannel shirts."

Mulder shrugged. "Okay. Sounds like fun."

Two hours later, Mulder got out of Skinner's car and looked around him appreciatively. The cabin was off a narrow gravel road, enclosed by woods. A short flight of stairs led to a wrap-around porch and the front door opened onto a large room with a fireplace. "Nice. Why don't you come here more often?"

Skinner shrugged. "Work. Troublesome sub." He looked a little wistful. "I always thought I'd bring my kids up here…"

Mulder wanted to ask but thought it was too personal. He followed Skinner inside, looking around at the rustic simplicity with interest, and put his bag in the bedroom. He bounced experimentally on the bed and grinned at Skinner. "This is nice, too." He stretched out and grinned at Skinner.

Skinner groaned. "Mulder, give me a break - I'm not a young man anymore. And if either one of us gets an erection in the next twelve hours it'll be a miracle. Help me get in the groceries."

After they unloaded the groceries Skinner asked, "What do you want to do now - other than the obvious?"

"Go for a walk."

Skinner nodded. "I know a nice place for a picnic. I'll pack a lunch."

After an hour's walk they reached a clearing beside a mountain stream and shrugged out of the packs. Mulder stretched out on the ground, staring up at the sky dreamily.

"This is beautiful."

Skinner sat down next to him, agreeing but thinking that the man before him was even more beautiful. Mulder looked up and caught Skinner's expression and grinned at him. "And you talk about _my_ sex drive - do you think about anything else?"

"Food." Skinner grinned back at him, relishing the private joke. "Speaking of which…"

Mulder began to laugh. "You are going to make me as fat as a pig."

Skinner snorted. "Hardly. I'd settle for a little padding on those hips."

Mulder sighed in exaggeration and sat up to rummage in the backpacks for sandwiches and bottled water. Skinner watched with satisfaction as Mulder tucked into his sandwiches with obvious enjoyment. Mulder's stomach was always an accurate emotional barometer and he appeared to be okay with this new development in their relationship. Skinner knew that they would need to talk, to discuss all the ramifications of this new wrinkle, but for now he was content to enjoy the day and the man.

He picked up his own sandwiches and reclined on an elbow as he ate. "We've had this cabin for as long as I can remember. My father used to bring us up here - my brother and me. We'd sit here for hours fishing and talking about - everything. He had firm opinions but he was always willing to listen to our point of view and let us make up our own minds."

"Sounds like a good man," Mulder said quietly. "Like his son."

Skinner nodded. "He was. When I got back after 'Nam, I had a really hard time recovering. We spent a month up here, just the two of us. I don't know how he found the patience - I hardly said a word for the first week. Then he brought me out here one day, fishing, and he said, 'Son, if you keep all that bottled up inside you it's going to kill you and then they'll have won.' I started crying and talking - I don't think I stopped talking for three weeks."

"What did you talk about?" Mulder asked, curiously.

"Lots of things. The boy I killed. How scared I was. Dying and coming back. About my lover and his death in that ambush."

Mulder sat up. "You told your father that you were - that you had a male lover?"

"The word is 'gay', Mulder, and yes, I told my father about him. I told you - we talked about everything."

Mulder tried to imagine telling his father that he liked men - that he had a male lover - and shuddered at what the reaction would have been. "How did he take it?"

Skinner's eyes were unfocused as if he was staring into the past. "He listened without judging, offered me sympathy and understanding." He came back into the present, smiling at Mulder. "He would have liked you."

Mulder looked surprised. "You think so?" He turned his attention back to his sandwich, trying to absorb the idea of anyone's parent liking or even approving of him.

"He respected intelligence and passion, and admired those who sought the truth no matter the personal cost." Skinner stared out over the stream. "I miss him."

"How did he - "

"Massive heart attack six years ago. He died instantly."

"And your mother?"

"Still living in the old house, although my brother is trying to convince her to move near him and the grandkids." He sighed. "I don't get to see her as often as I'd like even though she just lives in Pennsylvania." He looked over at Mulder. "You don't see yours often either, do you?"

Mulder shrugged. "Matter of choice on both our parts."

"I thought you were closer than that. I remember when she was in the hospital - you were devastated."

"She's my mother," Mulder said quietly, then sighed. "When we're together we argue. Or rather, I argue and push, and she ignores or evades or slaps me…" He let his sentence hang, then smiled crookedly at Skinner, trying not to let the appalled look on his lover's face break him. "I told you that we weren't the Waltons." He stood up and walked over to the stream. "Bet this is cold, even in summer."

Skinner took the hint and dropped the subject - for now. "Straight from the mountains. It'd freeze your ass off."

"And it's such a nice ass."

"Isn't that my line?"

"Well, you weren't saying it so I thought I'd point that out."

"Come here, you."

Mulder dropped down on the ground next to Skinner, grinning impishly. "Why? Got something in mind?"

"Perhaps." Skinner pulled him closer for a kiss. "I thought we'd neck like horny teenagers."

Mulder snickered, dropping his forehead to Skinner's shoulder. "Heavy petting on the second date? What kind of guy do you think I am?"

"I know exactly what kind of guy you are." Skinner nipped at the exposed neck, enjoying the shiver that went through the body in his arms. "You are a sex slut."

"Said the pot." Mulder closed his eyes and tilted his head back to expose more throat while his hands pulled Skinner's shirt free from his pants and slid under to caress the warm skin, enjoying the feel of Skinner's hairier chest.

"Guilty as charged. Take me away, officer."

"Does that mean I get to use the cuffs on _you_?"

"The sound you're hearing is my hysterical laughter." Skinner unbuttoned Mulder's shirt to access more skin - actually, his own shirt that he had loaned to Mulder. The idea that Mulder was wearing his shirt suddenly filled him with an overwhelming sense of possession, and he captured Mulder's mouth again for a deep kiss.

"Jesus, Walter," Mulder panted when he could breathe again. "I thought we were just necking here."

"Yeah, well, I feel a miracle coming about." He pushed Mulder flat, licking his way down to Mulder's nipples and teasing the nubs.

"But I didn't bring anything…"

"Neither did I, and it's too cool for al fresco lovemaking."

"Wimp."

"Nope - just a hedonist." Skinner pushed himself to his feet and grinned down at his lover. Mulder was lying on his back, gasping for breath, flushed with desire and frustration, and Skinner thought he looked absolutely delicious.

"Bastard," Mulder said weakly. "You're driving me crazy."

Skinner laughed and reached down a hand to hoist Mulder to his feet. "Come on - it's an hour's walk back to the cabin. I'll let you take your revenge on me there." He picked up the packs and handed one to Mulder, then held out his hand. Mulder looked at it for a minute then slid his own hand into Skinner's. Skinner smiled and squeezed Mulder's hand gently. "Come on." Hand in hand, they walked slowly back to the cabin.

* * *

The sun was starting to set when they got back. Skinner lit a fire in the fireplace and they ate leftovers companionably stretched in front of it. Skinner hadn't bothered to turn on any lights and sat enjoying the way the light from the fire highlighted Mulder's skin. Mulder was lying on his stomach, head propped on his fist, staring into the flames.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Mulder turned his head slightly and smiled. "Hardly seems a fair rate, considering inflation." He rolled onto his side and gave Skinner the same absorbed attention that he had been giving the fire. "We're in a hell of a lot of trouble here; you know that, don't you?"

Skinner reached out to stroke a cheek slightly rough with stubble. "Even more than before?"

"As long as we kept it inside the Club, no one was going to bother us. Too many powerful people belong to it, people who have the ability to prevent scandals from coming out. We don't have that luxury in the real world."

Skinner nodded. "We'll have to be discreet."

"Well, forget assignations at my place," Mulder said with a grin. "With all the surveillance systems and bugs they've installed, I'm probably on the net by now."

"I'm not worried about that as much as I'm worried about you, and how you're handling this. You mentioned last night that I compartmentalize and you're right - I've been doing that for years. What about you? Can you keep work and this and the Club separate?"

"I've managed to keep work and the Club separate, so what's one more ball to juggle," Mulder said with a slight smile. "So we're still 'playing' at the Club? I still belong to you on weekends?"

"Oh, you belong to me, all right." Skinner's hand was soft as silk and strong as steel on the back of his neck, and his voice was smoky with control and desire as he turned Mulder's head to meet his eyes. "And not just on weekends." Then he released Mulder with a gentle shake. "As for the Club, we'll keep playing until you don't need it anymore."

Mulder was shaken to the core by the depth of passion in Skinner's eyes and voice, feeling an answering leap within himself. Part of him wanted to run screaming into the night, away from here, away from desire, back to the darkness and loneliness and safety of his apartment. Part of him wanted to surrender himself completely to his lover and sink into pure sensation. He drew a shaking breath, rolled onto his back, and closed his eyes. "I still need it," he said after a moment. "Thanks for understanding."

"No thanks necessary," Skinner said softly, leaning over to gently kiss Mulder's lips. "I love you. I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy."

Mulder pressed his lips against Skinner's in return. "Ditto."

"Ditto? That is _so_ romantic, Fox."

"What's the matter - you never saw 'Ghost'?" He started crooning "Unchained Melody" and Skinner grinned.

"Don't give up your day job, Fox." He silenced his lover's outraged protest with his mouth and Mulder surrendered willingly to Skinner's skillful seduction.

* * *

Mulder woke up to the delicious smells of fresh coffee, sausage and pancakes. He rolled over in the bed, stretching luxuriously, then got up and slipped on his boxers and a T-shirt. Skinner looked up with a smile as he entered the kitchen.

"Morning, sleepy-head."

"Morning." Mulder slid his arms around Skinner's waist and dropped a kiss on the back of his neck. "Smells good."

"Pancakes, as promised, with your choice of syrup."

"I'm not particular." Mulder nuzzled Skinner's neck. "Actually, this is pretty tasty. Maybe I should just put syrup on _you_."

"Down, boy." Skinner swatted at Mulder's roving hands. "You've already had me once this morning."

"Yes, but not with syrup."

"Sit down and behave yourself."

Mulder laughed and released Skinner. "Geez, are you this grouchy with all your boyfriends or am I a special case?" He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table.

"I don't kiss and tell." Skinner set a stack of pancakes in front of Mulder. "And you're always a special case."

Mulder smiled at him across the table, that rare and blinding smile that never failed to enslave him, and Walter Skinner forgot everything except his beautiful and complex lover. The weekend became a blur of images: walking along woodland trails, stopping to point out signs of wildlife to city-boy Mulder. Intense discussions about everything from politics to movies. Standing in the front yard, heads tilted back to look up at the stars while Mulder pointed out constellations. Lying in front of the fireplace, the light from the flames dancing off naked skin with the sound of breathless moans and pleas in his ears. Mischievous hazel eyes laughing at him across a table or from the other end of the couch. Hot eyes meeting his while an equally hot mouth sucked and teased him to climax. Delighted laughter in response to an unexpected joke. The soft sound of rain on the roof as they lay snuggled deep under the covers, a warm body wrapped around his, and the feel of another heart beating in time with his own.

It was still raining when they drove back to the city on Sunday evening. Mulder was quiet on the drive, looking out the window, and Skinner wondered what was going through his lover's mind.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Mulder turned his head and smiled, remembrance lighting up his somber face. "Inflation, remember? Thoughts must be up to a quarter at least."

"I'll splurge for a whole dollar's worth. You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm okay." Mulder looked down at his hands. "It's just - this has been wonderful, and I'm not looking forward to going back to the real world."

"It _has_ been wonderful, but there'll be other weekends. Here and at the Club. Speaking of which, I want to put in an early claim for Christmas."

"You're not spending it with your family?"

"Not this year. I want to spend it with you."

Mulder felt his throat choke. "All right. I'll put you on my calendar."

"Do that," Skinner said in amusement. "In ink." He reached out to take Mulder's hand in his, running a thumb over the skin on the back of his hand. "Try not to worry or over-examine everything, Fox. It will be okay."

"Yeah." Mulder took a deep breath and smiled that dazzling smile that made Skinner's heart stop. "I think maybe you're right."

"Damn straight I am," Skinner said gruffly. He squeezed Mulder's hand again, released it, and turned onto the expressway toward the city.


	13. Fun & Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner change the rules for their games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Can't Get Close Enough to You" by Michael Bolton.
> 
> WARNING: This chapter gets into heavier aspects of BDSM, although nothing too heavy and nothing "non-consensual". However, if the discussion of aspects of SM play, or the idea of bondage or "slave training" or erotic pain give you the willies you might want to take two Chapter 12s and skip to Chapter 14.

_Time goes by and it grows stronger still_ _  
With a smile I surrender my will,_  
_I'm on my knees_  
_Passion's taken me so far across the line_ _  
All power of reason is no longer mine_ _I'm just waiting to please_ _  
What else can I do?_  
_I'm forever wanting you._

 

Skinner opened the door to the suite and stopped still at the sight of Mulder sitting on the bed, fully dressed. He closed his eyes and sighed. Had last weekend been a mistake? They had spent a very enjoyable long weekend together, moved their relationship to a personal level, and he hadn't regretted a moment of it. Now, however, it appeared that Mulder was allowing their real life relationship to intrude here despite Mulder's insistence that he still needed to play their games. Or was something else up? He decided to give Mulder the benefit of the doubt.

"Fox? What's going on?"

Mulder's eyes met his evenly. "I would like to renegotiate our verbal agreement. I understand from the reading I've been doing that things like that are allowed when circumstances change."

Skinner sighed inwardly and set down his bag. He crossed to sit on the bed. "What is it that you want to change?"

"Sir, you've been entirely too easy on me."

Skinner blinked, speechless, and stared at Mulder. The younger man's face was stern. "I beg your pardon?"

Mulder nodded, obviously taking that as an apology, although it clearly hadn't been one. "That's all right. I understand that you have been concerned about my psychological health, given my family history. And you were right to be concerned. I don't think - " Mulder drew a deep breath. "No, I _know_ I couldn't ask for this change if we hadn't developed a personal relationship outside of here."

Skinner studied him for a long moment. "Let's go downstairs and discuss this over dinner - on neutral turf, so to speak."

Mulder was relieved by Skinner's response and agreed. He hadn't been sure how Skinner would take the idea of changing the rules and was pleased by Skinner's willingness to at least listen to him. They went down to the dining room and, shortly after they were seated, Jean-Pierre emerged from the kitchen.

"Mr. Skinner! Mr. Mulder! It has been so long since you joined us for dinner - not since this little one's birthday, yes?" He patted Mulder's cheek affectionately. "You are still much too thin. This will not do. I shall create something special for you and you shall eat every bite, yes?" He beamed at them again and bustled off to the kitchen.

Skinner chuckled at Mulder's obvious embarrassment. "You have made a conquest, Fox. Should I be jealous?"

Mulder gave him a mock-glare. "It's all your fault and you know it. He's just as obsessed with my stomach as you are."

"I'm obsessed with more than your stomach," Skinner reminded him with a smile. "So - you want to change our agreement. What kind of changes do you have in mind?"

"Well, sir - "

"Just a minute, Fox," Skinner interrupted. "Don't call me 'sir' here. Negotiations are between equals, outside of the game."

Mulder nodded. "Walter. Like I said, I've been doing some reading and talking with Sean. I think I'm ready to get into deeper aspects, exploring my 'bottom space', so to speak. And I understand that playing heavier is more draining on the top, so I thought we could restructure our weekend commitment here to twice a month instead of every weekend. That would also give us a buffer for times when work interferes - and time outside of here for our personal relationship." He looked at Skinner anxiously. "What do you think, Walter?"

Skinner smiled at him across the table. "I think that this isn't the same man I negotiated with three months ago. And I'm impressed, Mulder; you've obviously given this a lot of thought. All right, I agree with what you've suggested so far. Now, what you do you mean by 'deeper aspects' and 'playing heavier'?"

"Heavier bondage. More submission. Light erotic pain. Breath control." He saw the frown on Skinner's face and said quickly, "I know that you said you weren't into pain and SM, but Sean says that you used to do it all. And I think I understand why you stopped. Something happened when you and Krycek were playing - and that's your business, Walter, and I'm not going to pry - "

"Breath control?" Skinner interrupted, and the angry look on his face made Mulder swallow hard. "Have you been playing with that on your own?" Mulder nodded slowly and Skinner glared at him. "Damn it, Mulder, do you know how many people die every year from erotic strangulation?"

"Walter - "

"I don't do 'edge play' _at all_. It isn't safe and it isn't allowed here." He reached across the table to grasp Mulder's face between his hands, forcing the young man to meet his eyes. "And, so help me, if I _ever_ hear or find out that you've been playing with that after today, I will take a strap to you until you can't walk! And there will be nothing 'light' or 'erotic' about _that_ pain! Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Mulder's eyes were wide and he had to swallow again before he could talk. "Yes, sir."

Skinner drew a shaky breath and released him, then gently caressed Mulder's cheek. "Sorry. It's just - you scared me. I couldn't bear to lose you, Fox, and certainly not to something as stupid as that. I promise you that I can show you a lot more enjoyable ways to get off with a hell of a lot less risk. Promise me, Fox, because I am totally serious on this subject."

"I promise, Walter," Mulder said softly. "I give you my word that I won't try it."

"Thanks." Skinner pulled back his hand and picked up his wineglass, draining it. He took a steadying breath. "Now - about the other aspects. Heavier bondage, more submission - no problem. Light erotic pain - that's a vague area. What do you mean? Hot and cold play? Clamping? Light flagellation?" He looked amused at the surprised expression on Mulder's face. "Why the surprise? You think I got to be a Senior through correspondence courses? Ask Geoff if you've got any doubts about my abilities."

"No doubts," Mulder said, "just a little surprised to hear those phrases come from you. And, frankly, I wouldn't dare to ask Mason anything. He scares me to death."

"He should; he's about the best top in the country. He used to scare the hell out of me, too." He considered briefly for a minute. "Still could, if he wanted to."

Mulder propped his head on his hand and surveyed Skinner with a slight smile. "I find it hard to believe that anyone could scare you."

"Mulder, I hate to disillusion you, but I've been scared plenty," Skinner said with a rueful smile. "Geoff is really good at these games - and, by the way, he trained me."

Mulder grinned. "I thought I recognized that growl. So you were a submissive?"

"No, but I've been a bottom. There's a difference, believe it or not. When I was working my way up to Senior, Geoff took me under his wing, 'brought me along' as they say." He smiled a little in remembrance. "I'm afraid that I didn't make it easy for him, either. I had some - strong opinions."

"I can imagine. Tell me more."

"Oh, no - not at this point," Skinner said, laughing. "It would totally undermine my credibility with you. Suffice it to say that I learned a lot from him." Their dinners arrived, a seafood and pasta combination, and for a while they were absorbed in eating. "So how do you want to define 'light erotic pain'?"

Mulder considered this. "The areas that you mentioned seem acceptable. I'm not a - what did Sean call it - a 'pain slut', but I'm curious about the endorphin high they talk about." He looked over at Skinner. "Is that going to be problem for you, Walter?"

"No, I don't see any problems there." He met Mulder's eyes directly. "You want to know about Krycek, don't you?"

"Only if you want to talk about it."

Skinner sighed. "Krycek approached me about the same time that I became directly responsible for the X-Files. As far as I knew he was just a fresh kid out of the Academy who was already in the lifestyle. I used to wear a ring with the Club's symbol on it - very subtle, you'd have to know what you were looking for - and he recognized it. At the time I didn't question it although now I think Cancerman must have put him on me. I was flattered, he was the type that I was attracted to - tall, slender, and good-looking - so I agreed to take him to the Club and introduce him around. And we started playing together.

"It was a mistake. He was into the really heavy side and drew me into that. It was never enough, though; he always wanted more, and wanted it rougher. It seemed as if he wanted - something - but I couldn't figure him out. He liked to challenge me, would make each encounter a contest to see who was really in charge and, yeah, it was hot to beat him and put him in place. But afterward I would be exhausted and depressed and disgusted for letting myself be pushed that way."

"Top drop?"

"In spades. And I was going through the initial separation from Sharon, all the turmoil over the X-Files and then Scully's disappearance... I guess that's what eats at me when I look at him now. I had a chance to save him, and instead I cut off our liaison and stopped going to the Club. I heard he took up with dangerous players after that, like Cancerman and his friends." He sighed. "He hates me for that, you know - feels that I abandoned him and maybe I did."

"Walter, you can't blame yourself for Krycek."

"But I do," Skinner said frankly. "I had a responsibility as his top and I failed him." He looked up at Mulder, meeting his eyes firmly. "I won't ever abandon you, Fox. You can count on me."

"I know," Mulder said softly. "So - we have an agreement?"

"Yes. We have an agreement."

They concentrated on the food and small talk for a while then, over coffee and dessert, Skinner brought the subject back up again. "Fox, we won't be able to play heavy the whole time we're here. So what I propose is that we take Friday night to get into the D/s mindset, play the heavier scenes on Saturday, and take Sunday to decompress."

Mulder considered this. "Sounds reasonable. But how will we be able to differentiate between 'in scene' and 'out'?"

Skinner thought. "Well, when we're in scene space, you can call me 'Sir' exclusively, and I'll use a term like 'boy' or - "

"Don't say it!"

" - Kitten."

Mulder put his forehead down on the table, moaning, "I really hate that name."

Skinner grinned. "That's what makes it so much fun." He laughed as Mulder raised his hand and gave him a one-finger salute. "We'll save our personal names for 'out of scene', okay? That'll also help you recover if things get too intense."

Mulder lifted his head. "I like the idea of intense."

"Fox, your safe words are going to be even more important if we go deeper," Skinner warned. "Don't give me any of that macho - or masochistic - bullshit about being too tough or too proud to call a safe word, or I'll cancel this agreement and it will be vanilla sex only."

Mulder nodded seriously. "I understand." He reached across the table to touch Skinner's hand. "I know how tough this is for you, big guy," he said softly. "I appreciate your willingness to take me into it."

Skinner felt his throat tighten and he covered Mulder's hand with his other hand. "I love you, Fox. If you need this, then I'll be there for you all the way."

"What about you?" Mulder asked. "This can't be just about me, Walter. That's not fair. You need to be getting something out of this, too."

Skinner grinned. "What makes you think I'm not? Think about it - my most troublesome agent obeying my every command. It's a dream come true."

Mulder laughed. "Watch out or I'll become a SAM just to annoy you."

"I've got my ways of dealing with smart-ass masochists."

"Oooh, Walter, you're making me hot," Mulder teased. "Want to take me upstairs and show me some of those?"

"Mulder, just breathing makes you hot," Skinner teased back. "You are such a slut."

Mulder grinned. "Yeah, but I'm _your_ slut, big guy." He lifted Skinner's hand to his mouth and began to gently suck his lover's fingertips, hot hazel-green eyes meeting deep brown with unmistakable invitation.

"Upstairs. Now." Skinner's voice was a low growl.

Mulder's eyes danced with laughter and triumph as he released Skinner's hand. "Your wish is my command."

* * *

It seemed to take a hell of a long time to get upstairs and Skinner could feel his frustration mounting by the minute. First, as they were leaving the dining room, Jean-Pierre came out the kitchen to check that they had enjoyed their meal and that Mulder had eaten. Then they waited what seemed like an eternity for an elevator while Mulder deliberately and silently flirted with him, to the amusement of the others waiting for the elevator, and now Mulder seemed to be taking forever to open the door. Finally it was open and Mulder walked into the suite ahead of him. Skinner kicked the door shut behind him and swooped down on Mulder, grabbing his waist and throwing him onto the bed.

Powerful hands gripped Mulder's shoulders and a well-muscled thigh thrust itself between his legs, pressing into his groin and pinning him against the bed. Skinner's mouth was on his, kissing him hard, and Mulder responded eagerly. The kiss was out of control as tongues danced and thrust against each other. Head spinning, cock throbbing, Mulder ran his hands over his lover's back, pulling him tighter. His hands found the waistband of Skinner's pants and he pulled the shirt free, pushing his hands up under white cotton to feel Skinner's warm, solid flesh. He ran his hands down the sides of the man's broad back feeling muscle and skin quiver under his hands. He felt a hardness press against his hip as he rubbed himself against the knee pinning him to the bed. Skinner moaned into his mouth, mouth and groin grinding into him. Mulder's lips were bruised, his whole body ached, and he wanted to make this moment last forever but also desperately wanted more. He wanted Skinner naked on top of him, in him.

The thought was mutual. Still joined at the mouth, they began tearing at each other's clothes. Skinner broke free to ruthlessly haul Mulder's shirt over his head and fumbled with the buttons of Mulder's jeans. Mulder tried to stop his fingers shaking long enough to unbutton Skinner's shirt but simply gave up and, grasping the shirt in both hands, tugged. Buttons went everywhere. Skinner's pants were easier, and he pushed them and the briefs down. Skinner tugged at Mulder's jeans then, finally, in frustration, came off the bed to haul shoes, socks, jeans and boxers off Mulder. Then he lunged forward, knocking Mulder flat and kissing him again. Mulder moaned and spread his legs wider, pulling his knees up and rocking against his lover’s hard body.

"Need you in me," he gasped against Skinner’s mouth.

Skinner groaned, broke away long enough to reach over to the night table for supplies. Mulder swung quivering legs over Skinner's shoulders and concentrated on relaxing tension, feeling the circle of muscle widen to admit the invading cock. Lungs stopped working, heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel another heart pounding against him. He locked his ankles behind Skinner's back and pulled him fully inside. Breath rushed from his lungs and he gasped for air.

"God, oh, God!"

Skinner was kissing and biting Mulder’s neck and took this as the signal that it was okay to move again. He withdrew and Mulder's muscles tightened, trying to keep his lover’s cock inside. Skinner growled and Mulder could feel his lover's whole body trembling. Then he pushed back in to the root, and Mulder arched his back and screamed with pleasure.

Skinner moved slowly at first with measured strokes. Arching his back off the bed, Mulder met each thrust head on and the pace increased. Soon they were both bathed in sweat and Mulder's heels pressed against Skinner's ass, upping the tempo. He stared up into Skinner's straining face as his lover fucked him enthusiastically, wordlessly. Every muscle in Mulder's body was alive and sizzling and he felt a familiar tension building in his balls. Then strong hands slipped under his shoulders, pulling him upright, trapping his cock between their two thrusting bodies. Something tightened deep within him and Mulder felt tension explode out of him as he came, felt the relentless cock fucking him through his climax, and felt his head spin with the force of his orgasm. Then Skinner was roaring, shuddering, and pumping into him.

In a daze, he felt himself being lowered back onto the bed and strong arms wrapped themselves around him. Gentle lips were pressing against his throat, soothing bite marks, settling nerves that still fizzed. He turned his head, blindly seeking those lips, losing himself in the hot depths again.

"You okay, babe?" Gentle fingers were running through his hair.

"Me? Sure. Fine. Whatever."

He could feel Skinner's laughter. "You are so beautiful when you've been fucked stupid."

"I seem to have lost a couple other senses, too," he said in a daze. "Geez, Walter - you been doubling up on those vitamins?"

More laughter. "Must be the herbal supplements. Or the hot young lover I've got."

"Trying to make me jealous, Walter?"

"Smart-ass. I told you've I've got ways to handle SAMs."

"And this was supposed to discourage me?"

Mulder groaned a little as Skinner gently withdrew and lifted himself off Mulder, padding into the bathroom for a warm washcloth and towel. Skinner cleaned them both up, then Mulder dragged himself under the covers and settled onto his lover's shoulder. He yawned once and was asleep almost before his mouth closed again.

* * *

"So, when do we start?"

Skinner looked up from his coffee cup and across the breakfast table at his lover. Mulder’s hair was still standing on end from bed, his eyes were heavy-lidded from sleep and pleasure, and he was sketchily dressed in a pair of loose sweat pants. Skinner grinned.

"What’s so funny?" Mulder asked, smiling back.

"You look like a well-fucked harem boy this morning."

Mulder snorted. "Well it fits, but I better be the only boy in your harem."

Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Threats, Fox? Are you forgetting your place in this relationship?"

"Not while you’re still calling me ‘Fox’." Mulder smiled at him cheekily.

"Mighty sure of ourselves, aren’t we?" The tone in Skinner’s voice was like velvet over steel and Mulder shivered in excitement. "I think someone is forgetting that I don’t need toys or props or games to prove that I’m your top. Come here. On your knees."

Mulder slid from his chair and knee-walked over to Skinner, ending with his body between Skinner’s knees. He stared up at Skinner, eyes wide, anticipation in every line of his body.

"It seems to me that you are overdressed, boy, and missing your decorations. Into the shower, and when you come out you had better have cuffs on and the proper attitude."

"Yes, Sir!"

Mulder raced into the bathroom and a moment later Skinner heard the shower go on. He smiled and poured another cup of coffee, then leaned back in his chair to plan his strategy for the day. Mulder was in for a couple of surprises.

Mulder emerged from the bathroom a short time later, hair still damp from the shower and cuffs in place. He carried his collar over to Skinner, knelt in front of him, and bent his head to allow Skinner to fasten it around his neck. Skinner started to put on the collar then stopped.

"Hmm. Something doesn’t look right."

Mulder looked up, surprised, then down again to check himself out. He had showered and his cuffs were fastened around his wrists and ankles. "I don’t understand, sir."

"This," Skinner said, gently fingering the sparse hair on Mulder’s chest, "and this." He took a handful of hair at the base of Mulder’s cock and gently tugged. "It has to go."

Mulder’s eyes widened. "Walter, are you serious? You want me to shave off my hair?"

Skinner tugged a little harder and Mulder winced. "What did you call me, boy?"

"S-sir?"

Skinner released him. "Much better. Actually, I think I’ll shave you this first time – to show you how I want it to be done."

Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed. This was going to be embarrassing and he was never going to be able to use the gym at work again. Conversely, it was hot as hell. He bowed his head in resignation.

Skinner smiled at the capitulation. "On the massage table on your back. I’ll get the things I need."

Mulder lay on his back and watched as Skinner returned with a basin of water and shaving supplies. With quick, deft strokes Skinner shaved Mulder's chest and underarms, then carefully started on the genital area. Both men had been silent, Skinner so he could concentrate on his task and Mulder so he could focus completely on what was happening, but now Skinner spoke. "You know, traditionally this should be done with a straight razor." He saw the sweat pop out on Mulder with satisfaction and carefully began shaving Mulder's balls. "Perhaps I should make that one of the requirements." He repressed a smile at Mulder's groan. He finished shaving the front and carefully removed the last traces of shaving cream. Mulder let out a sigh of relief that it was over.

"Roll over." Shit, thought Mulder, and carefully rolled over on the table. "On your knees, ass in the air, and use your hands to spread your cheeks."

Mulder awkwardly moved into position. "This is so embarrassing, sir."

A large hand smacked one ass cheek. "I don't recall giving you permission to speak, boy."

Mulder bit his lip and concentrated on not getting turned on while Skinner finished shaving him. He sighed in relief when Skinner was finished.

"You will add shaving to your preparations when you arrive on Friday night," Skinner said as he rinsed the razor and set it aside. "And one more thing." He inserted a lubricated finger into Mulder and the younger man drew in a sharp breath of startled pleasure. "You will lubricate yourself and make sure that you are properly lubed at all times during our weekends here. You will also make sure that you are ready and equipped for sex anytime and anywhere I choose to fuck you, lube and condoms within reach, including when we leave this room."

Mulder looked over his shoulder, startled. "You mean elsewhere in the building, sir? I didn't think that was permitted - I mean, you never _see_ anyone else - "

"Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it isn't happening," Skinner said with a wicked smile. "We tops have our secrets, boy."

"But there are security cameras everywhere!"

"And your point would be?"

Mulder fell silent, digesting that information. He had discovered voyeuristic inclinations several weeks ago when staying with Sean and Mason, but he had never considered himself an exhibitionist. Now he had to admit that the thought of discreet public sex was making him hot. He closed his eyes as Skinner continued to stroke lube into him, picturing a similar scene - in the library, perhaps - and thrust back against the invading fingers.

A hard smack on his ass snapped him back to the present reality and that wonderfully husky voice growled in his ear, "Don't come." He swallowed a groan and tried to focus on anything that would take his mind away from his throbbing cock. He felt rather than saw Skinner moving away and collapsed on the massage table with a moan.

"Now, let's try that again."

Mulder turned his head and saw that Skinner was sitting back in his chair at the table. He pushed himself up from the massage table, grabbed the collar and, on slightly wobbly legs, made his way over to Skinner. Kneeling before his top, he offered the collar again and bent his neck so that Skinner could fasten it.

"Much better," Skinner said approvingly, running a hand down Mulder's chest. "Now I'm going to take a shower while you clear the breakfast dishes and straighten up the room. When you are finished, return to this spot and remain kneeling till I return."

Skinner took considerable time over his shower, then shaved, dressed and brushed his teeth until he figured that Mulder had finished and had been kneeling long enough for his legs to start to numb. He quietly opened the bathroom door and saw that Mulder was kneeling with his back to the door, his posture absolutely perfect with his back straight and his head bowed. Skinner smiled, relishing for a moment the satisfaction of playing with someone who was a willing participant in the exchange of power, rather than demanding to be conquered or expecting to lie back and be "done".

"Down!" he snapped out, going back into the Dom role again, and Mulder quickly prostrated himself, forehead on the floor and arms stretched above his head. Skinner slowly walked around Mulder’s prone body, spreading the legs further with a nudge of a foot, then stopped beside Mulder’s head. Without a word being exchanged, Mulder turned his head and gently kissed the foot nearest him. Skinner smiled again.

"Kneel up!"

Mulder pushed himself up on his knees, hands locked behind his neck, elbows out. Skinner walked around him again, adjusting his posture slightly, then ruffled Mulder's hair. "I feel like playing, boy. On the bed, on your back, hands on the headboard, and close your eyes."

Mulder scrambled to obey and felt the bed dip as Skinner knelt next to him. Then Skinner was wrapping something thin around his thumbs and Mulder felt a slight tug.

"All right, open your eyes."

Mulder opened his eyes and looked upward. A thin piece of sewing thread was wrapped around each thumb and attached to a thumbtack on the wall. "What the hell - but that's so thin! I could break it easily."

"You break it and we stop playing this game," Skinner said matter-of-factly. "If you keep your hands on the headboard you'll be just fine."

"But, sir, I asked for heavier bondage."

"This _is_ heavier. Sometimes _less_ is _more_. Psychological bondage can be heavier and hotter than physical bondage. Remember that _this_ is the largest sex organ," he tapped Mulder's head, "and trust me."

"Always," Mulder said softly, and Skinner smiled at him affectionately. He got off the bed and went to the cabinet, and Mulder lifted his head, trying to see what Skinner was getting. When he saw it he groaned.

"Not the feather, sir! You know how ticklish I am - I'll never be able to keep still."

Skinner returned to the bed with the feather. "You don't have to keep your body still, just your hands. You're free to wiggle the rest of your body as much as you like." He slowly ran the feather down the right side of Mulder's body from his shoulder to his foot, and Mulder was torn between leaning into it and shifting away from it. "There are four ways to end this scene. Call your physical safe word, or your emotional safe word, or break the thread, or ride it out to the end." The feather came back up his other leg, up the left side of his body, stopping at his shoulder. "I’ll be here with you the whole way."

Mulder shuddered and fixed his eyes on the feather, seeing nothing but it and hearing nothing but that voice. The feather traced back down his chest, running over the newly smooth skin between his nipples, and down his stomach. He squirmed a little as it dipped into his belly button, biting his lip to keep from laughing at the ticklish sensations. Then it moved back up to circle his right nipple, teasing the nub into a hard point. The feather moved to the other nipple, repeating the same actions, while Skinner gently licked the hardened right nipple and blew across the dampened surface. Mulder groaned, arching his back up toward that teasing mouth, but Skinner kept out of reach. He turned the feather over and scratched gently with the quill end on the left nipple and Mulder drew in a sharp breath at the exquisitely delicate pain. A gentle tongue soothed the abused nipple while the feather end flicked over his right nipple again, abruptly followed by that sharp scratch and then the soothing tongue. Back and forth, alternating pain and pleasure, until his nipples were so exquisitely sensitive that the slightest breath over them made him cry out.

The feather drifted downward over his stomach again, stroking over the sensitive skin on his inner right thigh, tickling behind the knee, drifting down and up in lazy circles then moved to the other thigh to repeat its teasing. A gentle tongue began repeating the circling on his right thigh then sharp teeth nipped the skin. Back and forth again, the feather teasing the soft skin on one thigh while lips and teeth gently tortured the other side, until Mulder's legs were shaking from the intensity of sensation.

The feather was at work again, stroking the bare skin of his balls and he groaned, wondering what torment Skinner had in mind for them. A soft flat tongue lapped at them, running over the sensitized skin, while the feather traced up and down his hardened cock, then the hot mouth suddenly sucked first one ball and then the other inside, pulling them down and away from his cock. Mulder groaned again and felt sweat break out all over his body.

The mouth released his balls and moved up to his ear. "Roll over on your knees. Slowly - don't break the thread."

He forced his eyes open, looking up at his hands, and they seemed as if they were at the end of a long tunnel. Slowly, easing his hands over each other, he rolled to his side and onto his knees, feeling a supporting hand on his side to ease him up. The hands coaxed him into a position with his back stretched into a straight line parallel to the bed, knees spread and ass out while his head lolled down between his shoulders and his hands clung to the headboard. He could see his cock pointing straight down at the bed, hard and aching with need. He shivered and wondered what was coming next.

The feather traced along his spine and he arched away from it. Back and forth it went, tickling, teasing, and then suddenly that light scratch down his spine. He sucked in a breath and the movement made him arch upward against the tongue that soothed and licked its way down his back. He wanted to relax against that tongue and could feel it lulling him into a false sense of peacefulness. Part of his mind was aware of the sharp quill and the sharper teeth, and all his nerves were on edge, quivering and waiting to see where they would strike next. There! A nip under the shoulder blade, a scratch across the buttocks, then the soothing kiss, the gentle tongue. Over and over again, until he was shaking and tingling over his entire back and buttocks.

Skinner's head slid under Mulder and his mouth gently sucked Mulder's nipples but they were so sensitive that the feeling made Mulder arch away, gasping and groaning. Skinner's mouth moved down Mulder's belly towards that hard, aching cock, licking and sucking at the bare skin around its base. A hand caressed his balls, stroked up his ass, and a gentle finger pressed itself against his asshole while the other hand flicked the feather against his nipples. Mulder jerked away from the feather and the movement buried the finger deep inside him. He gasped and pulled back, and found his cock suddenly engulfed by a hot mouth. Moaning, he pushed deeper into that mouth only to find that this made him rub his nipple against the feather and he arched away again, once more driving the finger deep inside his ass. It was an endless circle, moving between pain and pleasure, fucking himself on that finger and in that mouth, twisting away from the torment on his tits. He heard himself whimpering and moaning and crying, and the tightness within his balls became impossibly tighter. Then the sensations were too much, and he was exploding in a white-hot blaze somewhere between the pain and the pleasure, flung out of his body, over the cliff, and into the dark sea below.

Mulder blinked his eyes as sensation slowly returned to his body and found himself cradled against a warm chest. He tilted his head back and looked up into smiling brown eyes, so soft and vulnerable without the glasses. He smiled back and started to reach up to touch that face, then realized that his hands were still connected by the thread.

"It didn't break!" he said in disbelief, his voice sounding wispy in his own ears, and he felt the chest move under him in suppressed laughter.

"I told you that you could do it, Fox." Skinner's voice was warm with love and pride and Mulder snuggled closer against the warm chest, smiling to himself. His nipples ached, his arms and legs felt wobbly and weak, and his skin felt as if he had rolled in pine needles.

And he was flying so high that he felt he could reach out and touch the stars.


	14. Sleuth Scully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully investigates Mulder's bizarre behavior, learning more than she wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Why Me" by Michael Bolton.

_Why do you love me?_ _  
Why do you give so much?_  
_How do you heal the pain within me?_ _  
Is it the power of your touch?_ _  
Now that you've opened up the heavens_ _  
For this heart of mine to see_ _  
I've become the richest man that I could ever be._   
_Baby, why me?_

 

Dana Scully hated mysteries. There was something about the unknown that made her fingers itch with the need to get to the bottom of the mystery. She wanted to find the rational solution, needed to put the period at the end of the sentence.

And the biggest mystery in her life was Fox Mulder.

Over the past three months he had gone from being her exasperating, infuriating, reckless but well-known partner to being a total enigma. Without a rational excuse. And she didn't like it one bit.

First, there were the flowers. Every Monday morning - except for one Monday when they were out of town - there was a flower in a bud vase on Mulder's desk. Usually a yellow carnation, although once it had been a daffodil and another time a hyacinth. And Mulder would come in, pretend to glare at the vase, then ignore it while he settled down at his desk. A minute later, however, he would be reading an email message and would glance at the flower with such a soft expression that Scully's jaw nearly dropped the first time she saw it. Then he would be all business, back at work on a case, and the flower would be totally ignored. Where the flowers came from was a mystery, too. Scully had arrived very early one Monday, had lain in wait for the mysterious giver, only to find out that they were delivered by a service who had a standing order - paid in cash, no receipts, no message. The flower was the message, of course, and it was clear that Mulder understood it.

The second thing wrong was the cases they were pursuing. Not that there was anything _wrong_ with the cases that they were investigating. That was just the point. She knew for a fact that during the past month four cases had come across his desk that would have normally sent him drooling and hot-footed in pursuit of his "truth". But instead of charging off to Skinner's office with 302 requests as he normally would have, he had dug further into each case, ultimately rejecting one "monster" sighting as a hoax and a supposed abduction as a runaway. Only two of the cases had made it as far as their weekly meetings with Skinner, and he had actually discussed them with both the Assistant Director and Scully before determining that only one was a potential X-File worthy of pursuit. He and Scully had duly investigated and, although Mulder managed to pepper the whole investigation with his usual off-the-wall ideas, he had "played nice" with the local boys and even listened to Scully's opinions. True, he had acted like an asshole on that VCU consult in October but she had to admit that the VCU guys had come in with an attitude about "Spooky" Mulder that would have tempted a saint to act up. And Mulder might be changed but he was no saint.

That Mulder was "involved" with someone was obvious. So was the fact that he was unreachable from Friday night through midday Sunday - no doubt with that "significant other". Scully wasn't jealous; she was actually pleased that Mulder had found someone, relieved that Mulder had something else to do in the middle of a Saturday night other than call her up. What she wanted from Mulder was an admission of this fact, a hint about the mystery woman - no, what she _really_ wanted was for him to spill his guts and prove that Scully was still his best friend. She tried dropping hints, asking leading questions, and even telling him a little about the progress of her new romance. Nothing. Not one word.

Then came the Monday morning after Thanksgiving, and Mulder entered the office whistling tunelessly. "Morning, Scully."

Scully watched him with curious eyes. The holidays were always the worst for Mulder and she had often come in on Monday after Thanksgiving to find Mulder irritable and unkempt, looking as if he had spent the whole weekend in the office. But today he was smiling, positively radiating good humor despite the rainy weather. "Good morning, Mulder. How was your holiday?"

"Wonderful, Scully. How was yours? How's your mother?"

"She's fine and sends her love." She eyed him as he removed his coat and hung it up, and noticed a faint discoloration behind his ear. A hickey? Mulder? "Did you spend the holiday alone?"

She could have sworn that he blushed.

"No - um - I spent it with a friend."

He settled at his desk and she turned in her chair, waiting with anticipation. A single red rose sat in the vase today - surely he would say something.

Mulder looked at the rose with amused affection and reached out to touch a velvet petal with one finger. "Sap," he murmured softly, then turned his attention to his morning email without another word.

Scully ground her teeth in frustration, slammed shut her desk drawer, and stomped out of the office. Then Scully took the next logical step - she slipped into his apartment and got a sample of his water for testing. It came back negative and Scully cursed fluently.

So Scully decided to do the only rational thing she could do under the circumstances. She followed him.

* * *

Mulder left the office on Friday afternoon on time, another of the changes that had taken place over the past fourteen weeks - she knew in the past he had often worked late Friday nights at his desk pursuing a lead. She tailed him to his apartment, parking down the street and watching until Mulder emerged with an overnight bag and jumped into a waiting taxi. She followed the taxi, careful not to follow too close as the cab headed back into the city. The cab pulled up in front of a building and Mulder got out, paid off the driver, and went inside. Scully quickly pulled into a parking spot and ran up the steps after him.

The doorman stopped her. "Sorry, ma'am. Only members are allowed inside."

"Members?" Scully asked, perplexed. "Members of what?"

"This is a private club, ma'am."

Scully pulled out her ID. "Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. I'm following a man who just entered here."

The doorman shook his head. "Sorry, ma'am. I can't let you inside unless you're with a member."

"Then maybe you can tell me - is the young man who just entered a member? Tall, thin, dark hair?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What kind of club is this?"

"Sorry, ma'am. I can't tell you any more than that." He produced a business card. "If you would like to call the Management, perhaps they can answer your questions."

Scully looked at the card. The Dionysus Club - she had never heard the name before this. "Thank you. I'll do that."

Scully went slowly down the steps, then stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the building. It wasn't tall - about five stories, but it took up a full city block from what she could see, and the exterior was elegant but subdued. It just screamed old-style Gentlemen's Club, but she couldn't picture Mulder belonging to a place like that. A high-class sports club? She wandered down the block, studying the building, turned the corner and continued following the wall of the building until, abruptly, there was an opening in the wall on her right side. No, not an opening. A ramp down under the building - no doubt a parking lot or delivery area. She looked around quickly, determined that no one was watching, and walked quickly down the ramp. Yes, it was a parking lot with a card-key controlled access gate and large signs indicating that this was private property. She slipped under the bar and crossed the parking lot, heading towards the elevators she saw at the back, hoping that they were not card-key activated as well.

She never made it that far. The elevator door opened and a security man stepped out, leveling a gun at her while behind her she heard a voice say, "Hold it right there, ma'am."

Scully put up her hands slowly. "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI," she said clearly. "I've got ID in my pocket."

The guards approached her and one removed her ID while the other kept his gun on her. The guard glanced at her badge, compared it to her face.

"Come this way, Agent Scully."

A short time later, Scully found herself cooling her heels in a small office. Damn it, Dana! she thought to herself, this was a dumb thing to do - just the sort of thing the old Mulder would have done. And won't you look stupid if you end up in jail and he has to bail you out?

A door opened at the back of the room and the security guard who had taken her ID entered with another man, clearly his boss. He was an average-looking man, possibly in his mid to late forties, but when he looked at her with a cool, appraising glance she found herself automatically standing up.

"Special Agent Scully? I'm Geoffrey Mason." He sat down at the desk and studied her ID for another moment before setting it on the desk in front of her. He didn't invite her to sit down and she felt herself flushing. She hadn't felt this awkward and embarrassed since Sister Mary Francis had caught her smoking at school and sent her to the office.

"I understand that my security men found you in the parking deck _after_ you were informed by the doorman that this is a private club. Have I got those facts right?"

Scully cleared her throat. "Yes, sir. As I told your doorman, I was following a man who entered this club - "

Mason held up his hand for a moment and looked at the security guard.

"Mr. Mulder, sir."

Mason raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Of course. It would be Mr. Mulder. Pray continue, Agent Scully."

"When the doorman wouldn't let me enter, I walked around the building and found the parking entrance. I certainly didn't intend any harm - "

"That is not precisely true, Agent Scully," Mason interrupted, dryly. "There are posted signs clearly stating that this is private property. I believe that is called Criminal Trespass in law enforcement terms."

Scully flushed again but decided that she had had enough of this arrogant man. She sat down in the chair she had risen from, calmly crossed her legs, and said coolly, "Be that as it may, I did _not_ break into your building, and I was pursuing a suspect."

She could swear that the corner of his mouth twitched. "And what, pray tell, is Mr. Mulder suspected of doing?"

"I cannot discuss an active case," Scully said firmly.

"I see." Mason looked extremely amused. "Well, Agent Scully, I'm afraid that I still cannot allow you to prowl around the premises. You can, of course, attempt to obtain a search warrant. Or I can send a message to Mr. Mulder asking him to join you here if you wish to question him."

Scully tried to hide the horrified feeling that gripped her. "That would hardly be conducive to my investigation."

"Then I'll have my men escort you off the premises. And I must warn you, Agent Scully, that if I find you on the property illegally again, I will have no compunction about having you arrested for trespass. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Scully said automatically. Mason stood up and started out the back door and she rose at the same time. "Mr. Mason - "

He turned back. "Yes, Agent Scully?"

"If you could just satisfy my curiosity - what kind of club is this? I've never heard of the Dionysus Club."

Mason studied her silently for a moment, his eyes coolly appraising her in a way that was not in the least bit lurid but, at the same time, seemed to evaluate her body and soul. "No, Special Agent Dana Scully, I don't suppose that you have." Then he went through the door and it closed behind him.

Scully stared open-mouthed after him. The guard picked up her ID and held it out. "Agent Scully, this way, please."

A few minutes later, Scully found herself standing out on the front steps where she had started, looking up at the building apprehensively. Damn it, Mulder, she thought uneasily, what have you gotten yourself into now?

* * *

Sean looked up from the security monitor as Mason entered from his office. "Trouble, Geoff?"

Mason frowned. "I'm not sure. She said she was with the FBI and her ID looked authentic. But why would a FBI agent be following him? Unless he's under suspicion for something and - as much trouble as Mulder can be - I can't imagine that. Or unless she's part of the group that tried to kidnap him."

Sean considered it. "She didn't look like the type of flunky that the smoker usually gets."

"No, she didn't," Mason said with a broad smile. "She's got guts, too."

"Top material?" Sean looked interested. "It's been a long time since you brought along a junior."

Mason shook his head regretfully. "No. Whatever games that young woman plays, they aren't our games. So what do you think - should we warn Mulder?"

Sean hesitated then shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. We'll just keep an eye out for him - and for anyone else who seems interested in him."

* * *

Monday morning again, and Mulder arrived in the office with a spring in his step and a more contented look on his face than Scully had seen in a long time. And this time there were half a dozen red carnations on his desk. But it wasn't until the staff meeting on Wednesday that Scully realized how serious the problem was and that drastic measures would have to be taken.

The meeting had started off normally enough. Mulder and Skinner were butting heads over a case-file, as usual. Dispassionately, Scully thought that they each had a point. The case had enough merit to be looked into but there was not enough information to warrant an active investigation. Mulder was pushing all the usual buttons and Skinner looked like he was about to explode with one of his famous roars. She sat back and waited for the fireworks to begin.

Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. The urge to just snap out an order in his Dom style was strong and he had no doubt that Mulder would respond instinctively, but that wasn't playing fair and Mulder would come to resent it later on. He took a deep breath and tried to be reasonable. "Look, Mulder, I know you think that you have valid reasons for pursuing this investigation, but I just don't see them."

Mulder was surprised; he had expected an explosion from Skinner. His eyes narrowed as he studied the AD and he thought that the man was looking tired. He suddenly felt guilty. The past weekend hadn’t been as restful for the older man, he was probably suffering from that depression/fatigue nicknamed "top drop", and here Mulder was trying to push the man's buttons - even if it was unintentional. He took a deep breath and fought down his own worst instincts.

"Sir, if I come up with more information - if I can come up with reasons that you think are valid - will you sign the 302?"

Skinner picked up his glasses and put them back on, studying the man across the desk from him in disbelief. Had that reasonable tone come from Mulder? He glanced over at Scully and saw that Mulder's partner was staring at the man in stunned surprise. He could feel a corner of his mouth twitch. "That sounds reasonable to me, Mulder."

Mulder nodded and rose to his feet. "Then I'll get you those reasons, sir. Come on, Scully - we've got work to do."

Scully found herself out the door of Skinner's office before she had time to think and turned to Mulder in the elevator. "Mulder, what in hell just happened in there?"

Mulder raised his eyebrows. "AD Skinner asked for more information before he could approve the 302. I said I would get it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Just like that."

Mulder looked back at her in amusement. "Yeah. Just like that."

"You aren't going to just go running off to pursue this on your own? I'm not going to get a call from Idaho or Indiana - "

"Iowa."

" - tomorrow that you are sitting in their jail or lying in their hospital?"

"Of course not."

"Mulder, you're not on any prescribed medication like Prozac, are you?"

Mulder grinned as they exited the elevator. "Nothing but endorphins, Scully. At least - not that I'm aware of. Think it's time to analyze my water supply?"

Been there, done that, got the negative lab report to prove it, thought Scully. "It 's just that you're behaving strangely lately, Mulder, even for you."

Mulder looked at her blandly. "Me? Acting strangely? How would you define that, Scully?"

"Never mind," Scully muttered.

"Right. Well, let’s get started."

By the middle of the next day, both of them were frustrated. "There's nothing here, Mulder," Scully said.

"I know it's there, Scully; it's just a matter of finding it." He got up and put on his jacket. "And I know who can get us that information. The Gunmen."

Scully collected her purse and stashed her laptop in its bag. "Mulder, what if they can't find anything? What if there isn't anything else to find?"

Mulder let out a sigh. "Then we'll have done our best, Scully, and we'll just have to put it aside until some more information comes to light. Look - I've got to pick up something at my apartment for the guys so I'll meet you there, okay?"

Scully thought long and hard on the drive over to the Lone Gunmen headquarters and she had made up her mind by the time she entered their offices. She followed Frohike into the main room and squared off against the three men, crossing her arms and giving them her most intimidating Looks. "What do you know about the Dionysus Club?"

The three men exchanged a glance. "Where did you hear that name?"

"I followed Mulder there last Friday night. They wouldn't let me in."

"Of course not," Langly said. "You have to be a member."

"You think Mulder's a member?" Frohike asked Langly.

"Well, obviously if he went in," Langly began, then said hastily, "Not _that_ kind of member. I mean - Mulder? He must be a - you know - "

Byers cleared his throat and jerked his head in Scully's direction. "Um, Scully, I think you should really - you know - ask Mulder."

"You haven't seen him lately. He's been acting strange - well, stranger than usual. Something is seriously wrong with him."

"Yeah, but, well, this is - personal," Frohike said.

"You really should ask Mulder," Byers insisted.

"Ask me what?"

All four turned various shades of red at Mulder's sudden appearance. He was carrying a large box and smiling.

"Merry Christmas, Frohike. I'm a little early, but I figured you might as well enjoy them."

Frohike peered into the box. "You're giving me your video collection?"

"Well, I did save one or two favorites," Mulder said with a grin. "I'm doing a little spring cleaning."

"It's winter."

"So I'm late. Or early." He turned to Scully. "What did you want to ask me?"

Scully looked at the guys but they averted their eyes, abandoning her. She raised her chin. "I followed you last Friday. I saw you go into that club."

Mulder suddenly couldn't breathe. "You followed me? Why?"

"You've been acting so strangely, Mulder. And you wouldn't talk to me about it."

His eyes blazed at her. "Did you ever stop to think that this was my _personal_ life? That it had nothing to do with you or work?"

"It _has_ been affecting your work - "

"How, Scully? I've been getting my reports in, I haven't ditched you - "

"And that's not abnormal? Mulder, you've been in another world. You turned down two cases last month that would have had you foaming at the mouth six months ago. And you were so damned reasonable to Skinner yesterday! What is this place, Mulder? Who is that man Mason I talked to there? And what in hell is going on with you?"

Mulder turned to look at the Gunmen. "What did you tell her?"

"We didn't tell her anything," Byers said quickly.

"Mulder, if I don't get an answer, I'll keep looking and asking until I find out."

Mulder's lips tightened. "All right, Scully, but you're not going to like the answer. It's a special club to cater to special needs. I meet someone there. It could be a man or a woman, but in my case it's a man. My master, Scully. Is that enough, or do you want to hear what happens when we go upstairs?"

It was just about the last thing she had expected to hear. Scully's face drained of color and she sank into a chair. "Mulder, are you saying that you belong to a - an S&M club?"

"Hell, they're not particular, Scully. S&M, B&D, whatever."

"You don't let him beat you, do you?"

"Would it matter if he did? It's _my_ business, Scully. My _private_ life."

Scully still looked shaken. "Mulder - I didn't even know you were gay."

Mulder looked as if she had just punched him in the stomach. "Damn you, Scully." He turned blindly toward the door, avoiding the eyes of his friends. "I've got to go - "

"Mulder - " Scully began but he just snarled and stormed out. Scully put her face in her hands, shaking, and knew that she had possibly lost her best friend.

Frohike cleared his throat. "Agent Scully?" She looked over at him. "I just thought you should know. I got a look at the bracelet he wears and it's gold. That means his - friend - is a senior member. Very safe players - probably the safest in the world. And you'd be surprised at how many important and influential people - men and women - are members of that club. That's why it's so private."

"Thank you, Frohike," Scully said quietly and stood up. "I'd better find Mulder and apologize - "

Frohike shook his head. "Give him a chance to cool down first. Right now I doubt if he'll listen."

* * *

Skinner searched for his keys as he walked down the hallway and he paused at the sight of a figure sitting on the floor outside his door. The figure raised his head.

"Hi."

The voice was tired and listless, the eyes dry but dull and expressionless. Skinner wondered what had happened but just nodded.

"Hello, Mulder. Hope you haven't been waiting long."

Mulder rose, shrugging. "You weren't expecting me. I - I need to talk - "

Skinner opened the door and gestured for Mulder to enter ahead of him. "Have you eaten?"

The question didn't even conjure a smile. "No - I can't - I'm not hungry."

Skinner nodded, hanging up his coat and taking Mulder's to hang up. Mulder stood with his hands shoved in the pockets of his suit jacket, looking utterly lost. "Would you like a beer?" Not waiting for an answer, he fetched two from the fridge and gestured toward the living room.

Mulder sank down on the couch, twisted off the bottle cap, and took a swallow. "Scully knows everything," he said baldly. "Except about you."

"Oh, shit," Skinner murmured, sitting on the coffee table across from Mulder.

Mulder sighed faintly. "Yeah."

"How'd she find out?"

"How do you think? She's a trained FBI agent - she followed me. She saw me go into the club. She asked the Gunmen, " he paused and looked at Skinner who nodded, remembering the three friends of Mulder's from a hospital visit, "but they wouldn't tell her so she cornered me."

"So they know, too?"

"Yeah." Mulder drained the bottle, got up and went into the kitchen to dispose of the bottle and get another. Skinner waited till he sat down again.

"How did she take it?"

Mulder snorted. "How do you think? She asked if I let him beat me and looked at me as if I was something she found growing in her fridge."

"I'm sorry," Skinner said gently. "Is there anything I can do? You want me to talk to her - "

"God, no!" Mulder exclaimed, horrified. "Can you imagine what she'd do if she found out it was _you_ I'm seeing? She'd be at OPR so fast your head would spin."

"You really think Scully would do that?"

Mulder sagged. "I - don't know. I didn't used to think so but she's been so different since the remission…" His voice trailed off. "I don't know." He scraped at the label on his beer. "She - um - she also said that she didn't know that I was gay."

"Oh." Skinner studied the averted head, wondering what thoughts were running through it.

"I - uh - I never thought of it - us - myself - like that," Mulder admitted, flushing a little. "I mean, I don't check out other guys." He looked up at Skinner sideways, a little apprehensive.

"I don't think labels matter much, do they? What's important is what we are to each other, not what other people think we are." He reached over to gently stroke Mulder's cheek. "You're still okay with _us_ , aren't you?"

"Yeah." Mulder looked up at him, and Skinner was appalled to see tears in his eyes. "You're the only one I've got left." It was on the tip of Mulder's tongue to ask "and when are _you_ going to leave me?" but he really didn't want to know the answer to that question.

Skinner moved quickly to the couch, pulling Mulder into his arms, and Mulder gratefully buried his face against Skinner's shirt. "Ah, babe," Skinner said softly. "Don't do this to yourself. I'm not leaving. You'll have to hit me over the head with a shovel to get rid of me."

Mulder chuckled weakly. "You're such a romantic, Walter."

"Damn right." He kissed the top of Mulder's head and squeezed him. "Now you’re in luck because the menu at Chef Skinner's tonight is my World-Famous-Chili." He got up and headed toward the kitchen.

"World famous?" Mulder queried, feeling the tightness in his chest ease. How did Skinner manage to make the biggest catastrophes seem like just a slight bump on the road of life? Must be part of that management training, he thought with a glimmer of his normal humor surfacing.

"Well, famous in the Skinner family, anyway." Skinner's voice called back from the kitchen. "You just make yourself comfortable, okay? Did you bring your bag?"

"No," Mulder said, shrugging. "I wasn't planning on coming over tonight when I left home this morning." He looked at Skinner quizzically as he came out of the kitchen. "Why? Am I staying the night?" He took the beer Skinner handed him and grinned. "Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?"

"I don't have to get you drunk to do that," Skinner said dryly. Mulder grinned and looked up at him from under those incredible eyelashes. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

" _That_ , " Skinner growled and pulled Mulder up and into his arms for a long kiss that left the younger man breathless and laughing. "Now behave yourself while I make dinner."

When Skinner emerged from the kitchen a little later, he found that Mulder had shed his jacket and tie and was studying his bookshelves with the same interest as an anthropologist studying a primitive society. He slid his arms around Mulder's waist and rested his chin on his lover's shoulder, relieved to see that Mulder seemed less depressed.

"Find anything interesting?" he asked in amusement. "You look like you're researching your next book 'The Reading Habits of the Tame Associate Director'."

"Tame, huh?" Mulder gave him a skeptical look. "I don't know about that. I remember last weekend and the way you - ouch!" Mulder jumped as Skinner goosed him and laughed. "Unfair!"

"Of course," Skinner said tranquilly. "I never promised you fair." He nodded towards his shelves. "What do you think? Pretty much on profile?"

"Well, I would have predicted the mysteries and the military history books, but not the science fiction." He turned a teasing smile on Skinner and said, "I don't see Preston or Townsend, though."

Skinner grinned. "'Journals of a Master' and 'Leatherman's Handbook'? Oh, I keep those locked up. With my whips and chains - for inspiration." He saw the look that Mulder gave him, half-amusement and half-uncertainty, and laughed. "What about you? What kinds of books do you like? Mysteries?"

Mulder shook his head. "No, I can't read most of them. If they get even one thing wrong it sets me off and I can generally guess the murderer by the end of the second chapter. Same with true crime stories. I like a lot of other things, though, like the classics - drama, poetry."

"Eliot? One of my favorites - one of his poems reminds me of you."

Mulder gave Skinner a sideways look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Skinner leaned his mouth closer to Mulder's ear and Mulder shivered in anticipation. "The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat - And there isn't any need for me to shout it: For he will do As he do do And there's no doing anything about it!"

Mulder gave an outraged cry, and Skinner laughed and beat a hasty retreat upstairs to change.

* * *

After dinner, Skinner turned on the TV and settled on the couch to watch the game. Mulder had been okay during dinner but had gone quiet again and now was a tight ball in the other corner of the couch. Skinner waited patiently, letting Mulder work through whatever issue was preying on his mind right now. After almost an hour of this, Mulder sighed and looked over at Skinner.

"Hey."

Skinner turned his head and smiled at Mulder. "Remembered me, huh?"

Mulder looked a little sheepish. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole."

"It’s okay," Skinner said tranquilly. "You’re allowed. You’ve had a rough day."

Mulder unfolded from his tight ball, scooted down the couch to lay his head on Skinner’s lap and stretched out. "Doesn’t mean I can take it out on you."

Skinner gently stroked Mulder’s hair. "I think I can take a little of your self-absorption without it devastating me."

Mulder rubbed his face against Skinner’s leg. "Why are you so good to me?"

"Easy – you’re my best friend."

Mulder looked up, startled. "Really?"

"Of course. None of my other friends will let me tie them up and fuck them."

Mulder snorted. "Asshole."

"Said the pot." Skinner continued his gentle stroking of Mulder’s hair, vicariously enjoying the softness under his fingers. "Why so surprised?"

"What?" Mulder looked up at him, puzzled.

"That I would consider you my best friend."

"I don’t know," Mulder said slowly. "Friends, yeah. Fuck buddies – maybe even lovers. But your best friend – I’m flattered, Walter."

" _Maybe_ even lovers? I would think that we’re more than a _maybe_."

Mulder looked up at him with a glimmer in his eyes. "Maybe I need a reminder."

"I think I can oblige." Skinner pulled Mulder up and kissed him thoroughly. "That help your memory?"

"Oh yeah," Mulder said faintly, his eyes glazed. "And I think you curled my toes."

"I aim to please." He settled Mulder back down on his lap and ran his fingers soothingly over Mulder’s back. "So what were you thinking about so intently in your corner?"

"Scully."

"Oh. Why was Scully following you, by the way?"

"She says that she was worried about me, that I’d been behaving strangely lately."

Skinner’s lips twitched. "Well, after our meeting yesterday I’m not surprised. I nearly fell on the floor."

Mulder frowned and sat up, turning to face Skinner. "What – you think I can’t behave like a decent human being?"

"I know you can, Fox," Skinner said quietly. "I was teasing you."

"Scully doesn’t think I can," Mulder said bitterly. "I still can’t believe that she went that far."

"Maybe she _was_ worried about you. You two have been friends and partners for five years. When you started acting differently – and you _have_ been acting differently – it probably unnerved her. She may have thought you were under the influence of some drug, or mind control, or – "

"Or some incredibly sexy Svengali?"

Skinner hauled Mulder back down on his lap again. "Flatterer. Anyway, you should be glad that she cares so much about you."

Mulder’s lips twisted sardonically. "Yeah – well – forgive me if I don’t exactly turn cartwheels over this. I don’t know how – if – we’re going to be able to work together now. And how can I do the X-Files without Scully?"

"Talk to her, Fox." He ran a caressing hand over Mulder’s chest.

"You think so?" Mulder closed his eyes to concentrate on the sensations as Skinner gently teased his nipples.

"Yeah. Tomorrow." He leaned over to kiss Mulder. "Tonight I have plans for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want to take you upstairs and ravage your body."

"Well, in that case – " Mulder sat up and swung his feet off the couch.

Skinner grinned and led him upstairs where he slowly stripped off his lover’s clothes. Mulder reached for Skinner’s shirt but Skinner gently pushed his hands away. "Relax and let me do this."

"Bossy," Mulder teased. Skinner gave him a gentle shove and he fell back on the bed with a laugh. "And aggressive. I like that in a man."

Skinner chuckled and removed his own clothes, then followed Mulder down onto the bed. He enjoyed the sensation of having his whole body laid out on Mulder’s flesh and kissed Mulder slowly, luxuriously, while his hands moved over Mulder's body. He took his time to arouse his lover, and Mulder returned Skinner’s kisses with the focused intensity that always inflamed his lover.

Skinner broke free from Mulder’s kiss and reached over to the nightstand for the lube, then once again moved over Mulder, pressing him down into the mattress. Mulder’s legs moved up and around Skinner’s waist to give him easy access and Skinner took advantage of the position to press inside his lover. He moved his hips slowly and carefully, letting both of them enjoy a slow, casual fuck and kept kissing Mulder, lips moving from his forehead to his mouth, then over his cheeks and down to his neck. His whole length slid slowly back and forth, drawing the most intense reactions from his lover who couldn’t control his reactions to the strong, deliberate fucking. Mulder’s legs would move with quick jerks, then pull Skinner into him like a vise clamping down on him. Mulder’s hands tried to simply rest on Skinner’s shoulders, but the constant pumping of the hips against him made him clutch hold of Skinner. Before long he was kissing Skinner wildly, breathlessly, with words and moans pouring out of him.

Skinner kept back his orgasm, concentrating on using techniques to draw the energy up his spine and circulate it back through his body, wanting to give Mulder an experience to remember. He propped himself on his elbows so he could bend his head and reach Mulder’s nipples, running his tongue over the sensitive surface. The new contact made Mulder even more frenzied. One hand slipped between their bodies to find Mulder’s hard cock, playing with it gently, all the time keeping up that insistent fucking. Mulder was speaking in tongues by this time, begging for more, begging for release. Skinner gripped Mulder’s cock harder and made his stroking more intense, knowing that he couldn’t hold either one of them back much longer. He picked up the tempo then, moving more quickly, kissing Mulder hard. His hand drove Mulder further and further along and when they came it was as close to perfectly timed orgasms as Skinner had ever known. Just as he heard Mulder’s scream and felt Mulder’s cock pumping in his fist, he felt himself coming and pumped hard into Mulder before collapsing on his lover’s chest.

Skinner pushed himself back up on his elbows, trying to catch his breath again, and looked down into his lover’s face. Mulder was sprawled on his back on the mattress, clearly exhausted, his eyes glazed over. Skinner chuckled and gently pulled out of his lover, collapsing on the bed next to Mulder.

"Whatever vitamins you’re on," Mulder said weakly, "they’re working."

Skinner laughed again, pulled the covers over them, and wrapped the younger man in his arms. "Some day I’ll tell you my secret." He reached over to turn out the light with a smile.

* * *

Mulder poked his head out from under the covers, feeling generally pleased with the world. He shouldn't have been, he thought. By all rights, he should have been depressed about Scully. But right now as he stretched luxuriously in the bed he couldn't help the self-satisfied grin on his face. Nothing like having been well fucked the night before to make a man wake up happy.

Speaking of which - he sat up and looked around for his bed-buddy. No sign of him - but there was a note on the bedside table.

"Fox -

Gone to work. I called in a sick day for you - figured you could use the rest. There's a new toothbrush and razor on the sink, one of my spare sweat suits on the bedroom chair, and breakfast in the kitchen. Walter

PS - You look mighty cute snuggled under the covers. And you are probably unappreciative of my self-discipline in not crawling back into bed with you."

 

Mulder smiled to himself as he reread the note. He whistled as he showered and hummed as he shaved. He slipped into Skinner's spare sweats, liking the idea of that, like wrapping Walter around himself. In the kitchen, a half-pot of coffee sat on the warmer and the table was set with a glass of juice and some of Jean-Pierre's delicious muffins. The morning paper was folded next to his plate. He poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. Picking up the newspaper, he found a second note underneath with a key attached.

"Fox -

The key is yours. Please lock up when you put out the Cat. Love, Walter."

 

Mulder picked up the key with a lump in his throat and then total panic set in. This was going too fast, spinning out of control, heading straight for disaster. He should get out of there, and fast, before he got in too deep to recover. Who was he kidding? he thought with a semi-hysterical laugh. He was already in too deep.

His cell phone rang and he fished it out of his jacket pocket with shaky hands. "Hello?"

"Well, you _are_ awake." The deep, strong voice rumbled in his ears. "How'd you sleep?"

"Okay…" He drew a deep breath, trying to still the shakiness. He should have known that it wouldn’t fool Skinner.

"What's wrong, Fox?"

"I found - I found the key. Walter, I don't - I can't - "

"Fox, it's okay." Skinner's voice was calming, soothing. "It's just a panic attack. Listen to me and breathe deeply. You're going to be okay."

Mulder felt himself calming down at the sound of that voice and, after a minute, managed a normal tone of voice. "I'm okay."

"Good. Now about the key - "

"Walter, are you sure?"

There was a chuckle on the phone. "Well, I hardly think you're going to make off with the silver. And there's no telling what the neighbors will think if they see a young man camped on my doorstep night after night. They must already think I murdered someone after that shriek of yours last night."

Mulder chuckled shakily. "Asshole."

"Said the pot."

"You are so juvenile sometimes."

"Can't help it. You take at least ten years off me every time we make love."

Mulder felt a pleasant warmth in his stomach. "Yeah, well, I must add twenty years every time I get into trouble so you stay about even."

"Just promise you won't use my apartment as a half-way house for known felons or a meeting place for MUFON and I'll be happy."

"It takes so little to please you, doesn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know. I have some pretty high standards." There was that growl that he loved, and the warm feeling spread from his stomach into his very bones. "Did you find the clothes I left out for you?"

"I put them on after my shower. Speaking of which, do you know just how much hair itches when it’s growing back in? Especially in _that_ area?"

There was a chuckle on the other end. "Guess you’ll just have to shave every day to prevent it."

"Gee, thanks, Walter."

"Always trying to be supportive, Fox. What are your plans for today?"

"I thought I'd head back to my place and get a little work done on my reports."

"Trying to get in good with the boss?" Skinner's voice was amused.

"Well, you know what a hard-ass he is."

Skinner chuckled. "Are you getting impertinent, Fox? Need me to remind you who's the top in this relationship?"

Mulder grinned. "Well, you can try…" he said provocatively.

"I'll do more than try, _boy_." Skinner's voice sent shivers down his spine. "Got to go to a meeting. Be good. See you tonight at the Club."

Mulder smiled as he tucked the phone back in his jacket pocket, then fished out his keys and added the new one to the ring.

* * *

Mulder's cell phone buzzed as he was finishing up his case report and he answered it with a smile.

"Mulder, it's me."

Scully's voice was quiet, strained, and Mulder's stomach clenched.

"Hi, Scully," he said quietly.

"Mulder, we need to talk."

"I think we've already said too much."

"Mulder - please - I need to talk about this. I'm downstairs in my car. Please - may I come up?"

He drew a deep breath. "Okay. The door is unlocked."

He made a pot of coffee while he waited and, hearing the click of the door, poured two cups.

"In here, Scully."

She accepted the cup without meeting his eyes. "Thanks."

He gestured towards the living room and she settled on one end of the couch while he took the other end.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted - I needed to tell you that I'm sorry," Scully said quietly. "I had no business prying into your personal life. All I can say to attempt to justify myself is that I was worried, Mulder. I thought you were in trouble of some kind."

Mulder snorted. "Yeah, well, I guess you could say that." He sighed and said softly, "He doesn't hurt me like you're thinking, Scully. We don't play that kind of game. He - takes care of me, makes me feel - special."

Scully reached out to touch his knee. "You _are_ special, Mulder."

"I don't feel that way," he said lowly. "I usually just feel - different. Spooky. But not special."

"And he makes you feel that way?" she asked softly.

"Yeah."

She touched the bracelet on his wrist. "He gave you this?" Mulder nodded. "Frohike told me what it means. If - if you're going to play games like that, it's good you're with someone safe. Do you love him?"

"It's not about love but - yeah. I love him. And he loves me."

Scully took a deep breath. "Then I'm happy for you."

Mulder looked at her, stunned. "Scully?"

Scully turned sideways on the couch and took his hand in hers. "Mulder, I know I haven't chosen the best way to show it but I care about you. You're my best friend."

"Yeah?" Mulder's face lightened.

"Yeah. So - can I take you out to dinner? My treat."

Mulder flushed. "Um - I can't tonight. I'm meeting - him. At the Club."

"Oh. Of course. Well, what about Sunday afternoon? I'll treat for a movie, you spring for popcorn."

Mulder grinned. "Sounds like fun. Okay."

"I'll pick you up at four." Scully stood up and started collecting her belongings. Mulder walked her to the door and she reached out to hug him. "Thanks, Mulder."

Mulder returned her hug. "No, Scully. Thank _you_ for being my friend."

* * *

Frohike studied the screen in front of him for a long moment, looking at the secret membership files of the Dionysus Club where member names and their symbols were correlated. He compared the sketch he had made of the symbol on Mulder’s bracelet to the screen.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered to himself. "Mulder, I hope to hell you know what you are doing." He printed off the page, quickly backed out of the system and logged out of his computer, then sat there staring at the blank screen for a long, long time.

"You’re up late," Langly’s voice said behind him and he swung around in his chair. "Find something interesting?"

Frohike folded the piece of paper and tucked it in his pocket. "No. Nothing interesting. Nothing at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: 1) Someone asked what the flowers mean, so here you are: From the Florist's Dictionary - yellow carnations are Joy/happiness, daffodils are Welcome/affection, Hyacinths are "I'm sorry", red carnations are Admiration and, of course, red roses are Love. 2) Yeah, I know the case file described here is sketchy, but you’re not really reading this story for the cases, are you? If you are, please go back to Intro and read note #1.


	15. A Very Special Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner spend Christmas together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem quoted is "As I Lay With My Head In Your Lap Camerado" by Walt Whitman from Leaves of Grass. (and no, I didn’t make any changes to the poem – it just naturally fits Mulder

_Hang up the Mistletoe_ _I’m gonna get to know_ _  
You better_ _This Christmas._ _  
And as we trim the tree_ _  
How much fun it will be_  
_This Christmas._ _  
Fireside blazing bright_ _We’re caroling through the night._ _  
And this Christmas will be_   
_A very special Christmas for me._

 

As the elevator door opened, Assistant Director Skinner heard a familiar voice across the lobby.

"All I’m saying, Scully, is that next time _I_ choose the movie. If I’d known that you were taking me to the dollar Twilight Special – "

"You just wish you’d thought of that first rather than getting soaked for the popcorn and drinks. You’re cheap, Mulder."

"Yeah, but not easy." Mulder and Scully stopped in the elevator lobby, smiling at Skinner as he emerged from the elevator. "Evening, sir."

"Agents." Skinner acknowledged them with a nod. "Going in the wrong direction, aren’t you?"

Scully held up take-out bags. "Burning the midnight oil, sir."

"Scully thinks she’s found a lead on that case we’re working up," Mulder said with a sideways nod at his partner. "Get out your pen, sir – we should have that 302 ready for you in the morning."

"I look forward to it."

After exchanging good nights, Skinner strode out into the parking deck, smiling to himself. It looked like Mulder and Scully had resolved the problem to their partnership caused by her snooping, a fact that relieved Skinner greatly. They were the best team he had and he had been worried that he might have to split them up if they couldn’t work it out. Then he sighed a little as he realized that they would probably end up being out of town over the weekend on that case. He would miss Mulder. Still, it was only two weeks till Christmas and they would have a long weekend together. Which reminded him that he needed to finish up his Christmas shopping this weekend while Mulder was gone. Deep in thought, he fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car.

"Assistant Director Skinner?"

Skinner turned and stared at the short man with glasses. He looked vaguely familiar. "Yes?" Then it struck him. "You’re a friend of Agent Mulder, aren’t you?"

Frohike nodded. "Melvin Frohike. There’s something we need to discuss, Mr. Skinner. Something that concerns Mulder."

Skinner frowned slightly, wondering what trouble Mulder had gotten into. "What’s this about?"

In reply, Frohike pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Skinner. Skinner unfolded it and found himself staring at a printout of his file from the Dionysus Club. He looked up sharply at Frohike.

"How did you get this?" he demanded, taking a step forward towards the shorter man.

Frohike stood his ground. "I’ll be glad to tell you that, Mr. Skinner – but not here. It’s not safe."

Skinner took a deep breath and held the paper back out to Frohike. "There’s a place down the street. We can have a drink - and talk."

Frohike nodded in agreement and followed Skinner’s car to a little pub down the street. It was early so there wasn’t a crowd yet and they took a booth in the back. Once they had ordered drinks, Frohike pulled the paper out of his pocket again and laid it down on the table.

"So how did you find out about this?" Skinner asked, pointing at the paper.

"I suppose you know that Agent Scully confronted Mulder about the Dionysus Club?" Skinner nodded. "Well, while they were talking I got a good look at the design on Mulder’s bracelet and I knew what it meant. Then I hacked into the system at the Club – it wasn’t easy, but I know a lot of tricks. I compared the design to the database and your record came up. And right here it states that Fox Mulder is your contracted submissive."

Skinner studied the man opposite him with a stony expression on his face. "What do you intend to do?"

"I’m not trying to blackmail you, Mr. Skinner. Mulder is a friend of mine and I just want to make sure that he’s okay. I’m not into this particular kink myself, but I have friends who are and they tell me that no one can become a member of the Club without a sponsor."

Skinner knew what Frohike was asking him. "Mr. Frohike, I didn’t take Mulder to the Club. Another submissive did – it was part of a Consortium trap to get Mulder under the thumb of Cancerman. If you know Mulder well then you’ll see how...attractive this place was to him."

Frohike nodded. "Yeah. If he was living in the Middle Ages, he would be wearing a hair shirt and flailing himself."

"Exactly. A sympathetic party within the Club heard of the plan and convinced me to take on Mulder to protect him from Cancerman. Mulder agreed – you know that it has to be consensual on both sides?" Frohike nodded. "I assure you, Mr. Frohike, that Mulder was not coerced in any manner to become my sub, and that he is completely comfortable with this relationship and the...activities we engage in at the Club. You are, of course, free to ask him as well."

"I just might do that. And if I feel that you are in any way a threat to Mulder’s health or well-being..."

Skinner’s eyes locked on Frohike’s. "I can assure you that I would never do anything to hurt Fox in any way."

Frohike returned the stare for a long moment, then said slowly, "This isn’t just about the game. You care about him."

Skinner flushed a little and looked down at his drink. "Yes."

"He feels the same?"

"Yes. So what are you going to do about that paper?"

Frohike picked it up. "This is the only copy I made. I haven’t spoken to anyone else about it – not even Mulder. No one else will be able to get in the way I did – not even me – if their systems people took the recommendation I emailed them. And as for this paper…" Frohike pulled out a lighter and lit one corner of the paper, then set it in the ashtray and both men watched it burn to ash.

"Why did you do that?" Skinner asked, curious.

"I trust you, Mr. Skinner – at least on this matter – and I don’t want this to fall into the wrong hands. It’s about time Mulder had someone to look out for him. Agent Scully can’t do it – he’s too protective of her - but the idiot isn’t so protective of himself."

Skinner sighed. "A fact of which I am only too aware. And, believe me, I am trying to knock some sense into Fox."

"I imagine that’s not too easy," he said with a grin, then paused. "He lets you call him ‘Fox’?"

Skinner shrugged, a half-smile on his lips. "Well, ‘lets’ is a strong word. He prefers me to call him that rather than some other names I have for him."

Frohike laughed at that and finished the last of his beer. He stood up. "Thanks for the beer, Mr. Skinner. I’m relieved to see that Mulder is in good hands. And if you ever need any help – " He handed Skinner a business card.

Skinner glanced at the Lone Gunman card. "There are three of you, aren’t there?"

"Don’t worry, I haven’t said a word to either Langly or Byers. And I won’t be telling Agent Scully, either."

"Thanks. That woman is armed and dangerous." He stood and held out his hand. "Mr. Frohike, it was a pleasure meeting you. I’m glad that Fox has friends that care about him."

Frohike shook his hand and slipped out of the pub. Skinner sat back down to finish his drink and thought about this newest wrinkle, wondering if he should tell Mulder. He sighed and decided not to – the last thing he needed was Mulder in another tailspin. Paying for the drinks, he headed home.

* * *

"Hi, it’s me."

Skinner smiled and settled back onto the couch, muting the TV. "Hi, me. How was the flight?" God, but it was good to hear his voice - and he had been gone only a day.

"Okay, I guess. We got in a couple hours ago - and yes, Mother, I ate. I washed my face and brushed my teeth before going to bed, too."

Skinner glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost eleven-thirty, which would make it nine-thirty where Mulder was. "Kind of early bedtime for you, isn’t it?"

"We’ve got an early meeting tomorrow morning. Besides, have you ever _been_ to rural Iowa? The cable TV doesn’t even get the good movies."

"So that explains why you called me."

"What, you think I only call you for cheesy phone sex? I can’t call just to say that I miss you and I’m sorry we’ll miss this weekend?"

"I miss you, too."

"So – what are you wearing?"

Skinner laughed. "You _did_ call me for cheesy phone sex! Sorry to disappoint you, Fox, but I’m wearing a shirt and jeans."

"I’m not disappointed – I can do a lot with that. One of your Henleys?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"Oh, yeah. I can picture it now." Mulder’s voice was dreamy. "And those tight and slightly faded jeans you love, the ones that hug your ass."

Skinner shifted slightly on the couch, feeling the jeans becoming tighter. "Those are the ones."

"And you’re stretched out on the couch, watching TV – right?" Mulder sighed. "If I was there, I’d be stretched out with you."

"And what would _you_ be wearing?"

"I’ll go with what I’m wearing now – a T-shirt and boxers. I won’t describe the boxers I’m currently wearing – it might put you out of the mood."

"Who says I’m in the mood in the first place? Fox, I’m _not_ doing cheesy phone sex."

"Would I do anything cheesy? Wait - don’t answer that." Skinner laughed. "I’m talking about _great_ phone sex. Go with me, Walter – widen your horizons."

"My horizons are pretty wide as it is, and I’ll remind you about that when you’re back in town."

"Oooh, I love it when you turn Dom on me," Mulder teased. "So I can’t talk you into this, huh?"

"Not a chance. I’m not _that_ desperate – although if you’re gone a whole week I may be. Nothing like regular sex to spoil a man."

"So you’re saying that if I try this next week you might be more receptive?"

"Brat," Skinner growled, and Mulder laughed. "Say good-night, Gracie."

"Good-night, Gracie. And Walter – "

"Hmm?"

"I do miss you."

"Me, too, Fox. Me, too."

Skinner sighed and hung up the phone, then glanced over at the TV. It looked even less appealing than it had before Mulder’s call and he turned it off. On a whim, he went into the study and looked at the long-unused books on one of the shelves. He pulled out one of them and flipped through it idly, then smiled. Yes, Mulder deserved a special treat when they went back to the Club after Christmas. Taking the book with him, he went to bed.

* * *

Several days later, Skinner opened the door and looked surprised. "Fox! I didn’t know you had gotten back in town." He stood back to let Mulder enter the apartment.

"We just landed an hour ago, and I thought I’d drop by to let you know that your fair-haired boy is back – and without major injury or loss of property, either."

Mulder grinned at Skinner and the older man felt his heart turn over. He stared at Mulder, drinking in the sight of him, his senses busy remembering the scent of skin and hair. And suddenly it wasn’t enough and he needed to feel Mulder again, to taste him.

Mulder was surprised to find himself suddenly pushed back against the closed door, his mouth captured in a ruthless kiss, and searching hands moving all over his body. Those busy hands swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, then his mouth was released as Skinner’s mouth traveled downward along his neck and his chest. He wanted to say something but his brain had suddenly gone numb as all his blood moved lower and his IQ dropped into the single digits.

Skinner’s mouth fastened on one of his nipples and he moaned, nails scrabbling against the door as he tried to brace himself. Skinner’s hands were unfastening his belt and pants, pushing them off his hips and freeing him, then that skillful mouth was on his cock and he thought his legs would buckle. He grabbed onto the head bobbing at his groin, not to guide but to have something solid to hold onto, and ran his hands over the smooth scalp. He loved the feel of it under his fingers and thought it was incredibly erotic but was too self-conscious to tell his lover that, afraid it might be a sensitive issue.

Mulder groaned again as Skinner sucked him in deep and it had been too long and this was too good. He came hard, pumping into that hot mouth, crying out his lover’s name before collapsing back against the door. He drew a shuddering breath and looked down at Skinner. "Hello, Walter," he said faintly. "I missed you, too."

Skinner chuckled, wiping his mouth, and looked up at his lover. Mulder’s shirt was hanging off his shoulders, his pants were around his knees, and there was a dazed look on his face. "This is a good look for you," he commented and stood back up to pull Mulder into his arms and kiss him softly. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Yes, if you can call what they served on the plane food." Mulder wound his arms around Skinner’s waist and rested his head on his lover’s shoulder with a contented sigh.

"I’ll make you a sandwich and you can grab your bag from your car," Skinner said, releasing Mulder so that the younger man could reassemble his clothing. "Why didn’t you bring it up with you? Still afraid to presume?"

Mulder’s face was suddenly sober. "Being cautious, I guess. You know that we’re taking a terrible risk getting together here."

"I know," Skinner said. "I’ve increased the bug sweeps on this place and the building management has strict instructions not to let anyone in my apartment when I’m out – not even maintenance or utilities. Beyond that – Fox, if they want us they have us already. Personally, I think it’s worth it." He pulled Mulder back against him and said softly, "I think _you’re_ worth it."

"Sap," Mulder said, just as softly, and gave him a brief kiss. "I’ll grab my bag and be back up in a minute."

"Use your key. I’ll be in the kitchen."

Mulder went down to his car, his forehead furrowed in thought. This was stupid, more dangerous than the Club was, but Skinner seemed to understand and accept the risk. And Mulder wanted this so badly, needed Skinner for as long as the man was willing to put up with him. Realistically, he knew that it would end someday, that Skinner would stop loving him like everyone else Mulder had ever loved, but right now the man was here and Mulder didn't intend to waste a single precious minute. He grabbed his suitcase and suitbag out of the trunk and headed back upstairs to his waiting lover.

* * *

Scully looked over at her partner. Mulder was diligently working on his case report and she thought that he was positively glowing this morning, which surprised her. They had been out of town so he hadn’t been to that Club to see his – whatever - in over a week. Of course, they had just successfully completed a case - and for once there would be little in their report to irritate their boss or get Mulder into trouble. And they had spent a lot of time the last few days just talking. She felt a little guilty; over the past few months since her remission she had been wrapped up in her personal world and had had so little time or patience for her partner even though she knew he was going through his own personal crisis. Maybe if she had been there for Mulder to talk to he wouldn't have felt the need to pursue this new hobby or lifestyle or whatever they called it these days. Although she had meant what she said about supporting him with this SM thing if it made him happy, it still made her feel uneasy and she had a feeling that - barring other plans - Mulder would be spending Christmas alone or with this master-person.

What Mulder needed was some friends; no, she corrected herself, some normal friends. Or a mentor - someone he could like and trust and turn to when he needed advice that Scully couldn't give him. Someone like… A sudden thought popped full-born into her head and it excited her so much that she had to take a deep breath before she could speak.

"Mulder, have you got any plans for Christmas?"

Mulder looked up, startled. Part of his mind had been fixed on finishing this report before their meeting with Skinner, and part of his mind was reliving last night, like looking at a slide show: Snap! Sitting on the counter watching Skinner putting together a couple of sandwiches. Snap! Kneeling on the kitchen floor with Skinner's half-naked body under him while Mulder sucked his cock. Snap! Lying on his back in Skinner's big bed, his legs over Skinner's shoulders while his lover moved slowly and deeply into him. Snap! Snuggled against that firm, muscled chest with warm arms wrapped around him, hearing Skinner's steady breathing and knowing he was as safe as anyone could be in this world. Snap! Brown eyes smiling at him across the breakfast table and a hand reaching out to wipe something off his chin. Snap! A quick hug and kiss in the front hallway, feeling the mixture of happiness from the past night and sadness that it would be several days before they would be together again like this. And behind it all, the whispered thought and hope and prayer that someday…

"Mulder?"

"Sorry, Scully. I was thinking about this report. What did you say?"

"Have you got any plans for Christmas?"

An echo in his head - _"I want to put in an early claim for Christmas." - "All right. I'll put you on my calendar."_ He said, evasively, "Um - no firm plans, Scully."

"Mom and I are going to be out of town, with Bill and Tara, remember? I hate to think of you alone on Christmas."

Mulder shrugged. "I'm used to it, Scully. No big deal."

Scully nodded, dropping the subject, but her plans were rapidly taking form in her head. She stood up, pulling her paperwork together. "Mulder, I've got to - um - drop by the lab for those reports before our meeting with Skinner. I'll meet you there."

"Sure, Scully." Mulder bent back over his report.

Scully hurried upstairs to AD Skinner's office. Kim looked up as she came in. "Agent Scully, you're early."

"I wonder if Assistant Director Skinner has a few minutes for me before our meeting."

"I'll check." Kim returned in a few minutes. "Go on in."

Skinner looked up as Scully entered the office and shut the door behind her. "Agent Scully, you wished to speak with me. Is something wrong? Something with this last case…"

"No, sir." Scully cleared her throat, settling her nerves. "This is more in the light of a personal matter, sir."

"A personal matter, Agent Scully. Not your cancer - "

"No, sir, but thank you for your concern. It concerns Agent Mulder." Skinner leaned back in his chair, silent, and she continued quickly. "As you know, I'm taking some vacation days at Christmas to go out to San Diego to be with my family. Normally we have Christmas here, at my mother's, and I drag Mulder along but this year…." She paused and looked at Skinner directly. "Sir, do you have any plans for Christmas?"

Startled, Skinner sat upright in his chair and stared at the agent, then cleared his throat. "No firm plans, Agent Scully. Why?"

"Well, sir, I have some friends who get together at Christmas when they can't be with their families, a sort of Orphan's Christmas, and I had the thought that perhaps you and - and Mulder could get together for Christmas. Neither of you are going to be with family, and it's terrible to be alone on Christmas, and - well, sir - I'd rather Mulder wasn't alone on Christmas."

"Have you discussed this with Agent Mulder?"

"I wanted to bring the idea to your attention first. Sir, Mulder's been through some tough times. Lately he has developed a - a friendship that has me worried. And he admires you and wants your respect - the way he acted on this last case, for example. He's really trying."

"I am aware of that." For once, Skinner felt at a total loss for words. "I - I'll think about it, Agent Scully."

Scully smiled warmly. "Thank you, sir."

There was a knock on the door and Kim stuck her head in. "Agent Mulder is here for your meeting, sir."

"Send him in." Skinner sat back in his chair, feeling a little dazed by Scully's proposition and had a hard time concentrating for the first few minutes. Mulder didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong and launched into his report, and the mundanity of the situation - if one could apply the word mundane to something involving an X-file - brought him back to center. He went over the field and budget reports with them, signed off on the reports, and dismissed the agents.

Scully stood quickly, directing a speaking look at Skinner, and muttered something about labs and reports before quickly leaving the room. Mulder stared after her, puzzled, then turned back to Skinner.

"Is it my imagination, or is Scully acting bizarrely today?"

Skinner couldn't help it; the bubble of laughter that had been sitting inside him since Scully had proposed her idea burst and Mulder stared in stunned surprise as his AD roared with laughter.

"Okay - want to tell me the joke so that I can laugh, too?"

Skinner tried to stop laughing. "Scully - wants me to - invite you over - for Christmas."

Mulder stared at Skinner. "You're kidding me, right?" Skinner shook his head, unable to speak. "But - _why_?"

"That's the best part," Skinner said, wiping his streaming eyes. "She thinks you've developed a less-than-desirable ‘friendship’ lately."

Mulder's lips twitched. "So Scully is worried that I'm going to spend Christmas at the Club being tied up and spanked and is trying to save me?" This sent Skinner off into another round of laughter, and Mulder had to laugh as well. "God, sir - what do you plan to do?"

"Just what she asked, of course. That woman scares me sometimes." Skinner tried to recover his composure. "Agent Mulder, would you care to join me for Christmas?"

Mulder grinned and eyed Skinner speculatively. "Against my better judgment - and I get the terrified impression that you take Dickens as your guidelines for Christmas - I accept."

Skinner chuckled. "Be afraid, Mulder, be very afraid. Now get out of here - I've got fifteen minutes before my meeting with VCU and I've got to recover the expected surly demeanor."

Mulder grinned and took himself off. Scully looked up expectantly when he entered their office and he smiled. "Scully, you're not going to believe this, but the strangest thing just happened…"

* * *

Mulder let himself into the apartment, calling out to Skinner as he closed the door. "Walter?"

"Be out in a minute."

Seeing that the coast was clear, Mulder took the shopping bag with the wrapped presents over to the small tree that Skinner had standing by the patio door and placed them underneath. He was amused to see that Skinner had a live tree and wondered what he did with it after Christmas. Planted it up at the cabin, perhaps?

"Hey, Ebenezer," Skinner said, coming into the living room. "Kick any orphans on the way over?"

"Bah, humbug," Mulder said but with a trace of humor.

Skinner chuckled and folded his arms around the younger man's waist, squeezing him lightly. "What do you think of the tree?"

"Very green, but no tinsel."

"It's hard to get the stuff off, and tinsel's bad for wildlife."

"So you _do_ plant the tree at the cabin."

"I do now, starting this year. New tradition. Seemed somehow appropriate, celebrating life."

Mulder's throat closed briefly, and he turned in Skinner's arms to return the hug. "Something smells good. Besides you."

"You sweet-talker, you." Skinner kissed him softly and felt Mulder melt into him. "Roast beef and all the trimmings."

Mulder smiled and Skinner felt his heart turn over. "Pie?"

"Of course. So, when do you want to open your presents? Are you a Christmas Eve or Christmas morning kind of guy?"

Mulder flushed a little and pulled out of Skinner's arms, shrugging diffidently. "Doesn't matter to me. What do you prefer?"

"Fox." If Mulder could have scuffed his toe in the carpet like a little boy he would have. "What is it?" Mulder became fascinated with the tree, fingering the ornaments, and seemed absorbed in the lights. "I'm not giving up on this line of questioning, and you know how tenacious I am."

Mulder sighed. "We didn't do Christmas."

"You're Jewish? You prefer to celebrate Hanukkah?"

"No - well, I wasn't raised in the faith, but what I meant was we stopped celebrating anything after - Sam."

Skinner had learned long ago to control his temper, but the white-hot surge he felt right now threatened to burst his control. He could understand grief at the loss of a child, but what kind of parents abandoned their remaining child? He took a deep breath, controlling his anger, concentrating on the man before him.

"Well, my family had a tradition. We would have our big dinner on Christmas Eve and then we'd choose one present to open that night. All the others were opened the next morning, with coffeecake for breakfast, and we’d goof-off and snack on left-overs all day."

Mulder smiled faintly. "Sounds like a nice tradition."

"Okay, I'll take that as a second. Come on, let's eat."

After dinner, Mulder said casually, "So, when do we open the present?"

Skinner was amused for he could see the little-boy eagerness under the diffidence. "Right now, if you'd like."

"And I get to choose?"

"Yes."

Mulder grinned again and began prowling around the tree, examining the packages carefully as if conducting an investigation and Skinner hid a smile. Then, unexpectedly, he picked up a package that Skinner didn't recognize and brought it to Skinner.

"I'd like you to open this one." As if suddenly embarrassed, he returned to his prowling. Skinner was going to wait till Mulder had chosen his as well, but the surreptitious glances Mulder cast his way told him that the younger man was on edge and waiting for his reaction. He swallowed hard, wondering when was the last time Mulder had been able to give someone he loved a gift. He thought about all the birthdays and Christmases over the past twenty-some years and wished it were in his power to make it up to Mulder. Realistically, he knew that the only thing he could do was to love Mulder and to make sure that he knew just how loved he was for however long they were together.

Carefully, he unwrapped the package and found himself holding a finely bound leather book. He opened it and saw that it was a special edition of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. He remembered telling Mulder that Whitman was one of his favorite writers, and was touched that Mulder remembered.

"Fox," he murmured. "It's beautiful."

"Open it," Mulder said quietly. "I marked one of the poems that I want you to read."

Skinner flipped to the book-marked page and read aloud.

" _As I lay with my head in your lap, camerado,_  
 _The confession I made I resume, what I said to you and the open air I resume,_  
 _I know I am restless and make others so,_  
 _I know my words are weapons full of danger, full of death,_  
 _For I confront peace, security, and all the settled laws, to unsettle them,_  
 _I am more resolute because all have denied me than I could ever have been had all accepted me,_  
 _I heed not and have never heeded either experience, cautions, majorities, nor ridicule,_  
 _And the threat of what is call'd hell is little or nothing to me,_  
 _And the lure of what is call'd heaven is little or nothing to me;_  
 _Dear camerado!_  
 _I confess I have urged you onward with me, and still urge you,_  
 _Without the least idea what is our destination,_  
 _Or whether we shall be victorious, or utterly quell'd and defeated."_

 

Skinner swallowed, his throat suddenly tight, and looked across at the room at Mulder. His lover was watching him out of the corner of his eye, an uncertain look on his face as if even now he was unsure of whether Skinner accepted him fully and understood the risks involved. Skinner stood up and crossed the space between them, physically and metaphorically, and folded Mulder into his arms.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "It’s beautiful." He released Mulder with a squeeze and turned to the tree. "I’d like you to open this one."

Mulder took the square box. "It’s heavy." He sat down cross-legged on the floor, unwrapped the paper and opened the lid of the box, then stared in puzzled surprise. "It’s a rock. It’s a pretty rock – "

Skinner smiled and sat down next to him. "Turn it over."

Mulder ran his fingers over the surface of the large gray-brown rock, then picked it up and turned it over. And then he stared at it in open-mouthed wonder. It was a geode, cut cleanly in half and polished on the interior. Bands of color sparkled and caught the light, patterns changing as he turned it in his hands, totally amazed by this natural miracle.

He looked at Skinner, his eyes bright with wonder, and Skinner said, "That's what you look like to me. Smooth and cool on the outside, but on the inside layers of color and darkness and light. Not perfect but breathtakingly beautiful - a miracle that I am grateful to be allowed to share."

"Walter," Mulder said softly. "Thank you. Thank you for seeing this. I don't know why, but I am grateful - hell, ecstatic, that you do. I love you."

Skinner caressed his cheek softly. "I love you, too." He felt his groin tighten and ignored the feeling. "You want some pie?"

"No," Mulder said simply. "I want to go to bed. I want to make love to you."

Skinner leaned over to kiss him tenderly. "I think that can be arranged."

* * *

Skinner woke in the early morning and gently eased out of the embrace of his lover. He sat looking down at him for a long moment, drinking in the picture of his own dark angel, so beautiful and innocent in sleep. Then he slipped out of bed, put on a robe, and went into the spare bedroom to retrieve the presents hidden there. He had conspired to give Mulder a Christmas he would never forget, including a present dropped off by Frohike from the Gunmen, and those from Scully and her mother. Skinner's lips tightened briefly. He had contacted Mrs. Mulder and had invited her to join them for Christmas, but she had said she had plans and had sent a card. His own mother was spending Christmas day with his brother’s family but was flying in the day after Christmas to spend a couple days with him. He set all the presents around the tree, displaying one of his prominently by the window, and went back to bed.

Mulder woke gradually to a sense of being warm and safe, a feeling he associated with Walter Skinner. He snuggled closer into that warmth, chuckling to himself as he admitted he was a closet-snuggler.

"Well, you sound cheerful this morning."

He blinked open his eyes and smiled, stretching. "What's not to be cheerful about? Waking in your arms would make anyone smile."

"Thanks - I think. I'm going to assume that was a compliment. Time to get up, Fox."

"I already am."

"Hedonist. It's Christmas morning - don't you want to see what Santa brought you?"

"Already see it. Glad he didn't leave it under the tree, though."

Skinner laughed. "You're incorrigible. Hit the showers, junior."

They took their time in the shower, soaping and caressing each other, emerging sated and satisfied. After slipping into clothes, they went into the living room. Mulder paused on the threshold and stared, surprised, then looked up at Skinner with a grin. "Santa thinks you've been a good boy this year. Or you've got some mixed up burglars."

"What makes you think that Santa brought these for me?"

Mulder shrugged. "Your place. And you've been a very, very good boy this year. I can provide references."

Skinner snorted. "Asshole. I'll get the coffee."

As Skinner went into the kitchen, Mulder put his hands in his pockets and tentatively went into the living room. He felt like an intruder, a voyeur at someone else's Christmas, and walked around the tree, looking surreptitiously at the labels on the packages. A suspiciously large number of them had his name written on them, and they were not all from Walter. A large box stood over by the window and he was drawn towards it. A large tag on it said "To Fox from Santa" and he had to blink suddenly.

"Uh-uh - that one's last," Skinner said, entering the room with two coffee mugs. "Christmas rules."

"Damn, Walter, your family have a rule for everything?" Mulder grinned and walked back to the couch.

They took their time over opening the gifts, each enjoying each other's surprise as much as their own gifts. Skinner held up a pair of silk boxers and raised an eyebrow. "Trying to tell me something, Fox?"

"It's a documented fact that briefs reduce a man's potency."

"I haven't noticed any complaints from you on my potency. Besides, that's for pregnancy and - I hate to tell you this, Fox - there's no way I'm going to get you pregnant."

"A man can dream, Walter." Then Mulder snorted over a box of subdued ties. "Trying to change my style, Walter?"

"Trying to redeem my reputation. I've always been known for my good taste and being seen with you in those atrocious ties is going to get me black listed. Besides, look closer."

Mulder peered at the patterns on the ties, then burst out laughing. What he had taken for tiny dots were spaceships on one and galaxies on the other.

Mulder was pleased by Skinner’s pleased reception of the Civil War videotape series and his amusement over the kitschy "Kiss the Cook" apron. He had received the movie "Contact" from Skinner, "Conspiracy Theory" from the Lone Gunmen, and a book by one of his favorite authors from Scully. He read his mother's engraved card with no expression, tossing the check onto the table, and tried not to look at the box by the window.

"Okay, you can open the big box now."

"All right, but the last time I saw something like this was at a bachelor party so if a busty young thing jumps out, it's not my fault."

The box turned out to be a cover and, after Mulder lifted it, he stood staring in stupefied amazement.

"Like it?" Skinner asked. "It" was a telescope, a purchase that had required a lot of studying by Walter but it was worth it to see the look on Mulder's face. "Can't see as well in the city with all the lights, but you should be able to see spectacularly well up at the cabin." He came up behind the dumb-founded Mulder and said softly, "Remember that night that we stood outside and you showed me the constellations? I thought you could show me where those Reticulans come from."

"Walter - I - God!" He caught his breath, looked up blindly, and Skinner folded him into his arms. "It’s – it’s too much – "

"Merry Christmas, Fox," Skinner murmured. "The first of many Christmases to come."

And the smile on the face turned towards his was the best present he had ever received.

* * *

They spent the afternoon stretched out on the couch together watching videos. Skinner hadn't been to a theater in so long that he hadn't seen "Conspiracy Theory" and his primary comment was "At last - someone more paranoid than you."

Mulder grinned. "You know, they messed up on the romance, though."

Skinner was lying with his arms wrapped around Mulder and could sense both his body heat and a slight humming of energy between them. His breath became slow and even, tension melted away, and his whole body filled with a warmth, a contentment, a sense of peace. He thought, _This is exactly what it’s supposed to be like; this is exactly what’s supposed to happen._ Out loud he said, "Really?"

"Yeah, the real attraction was between the Mel Gibson and Patrick Stewart characters."

Skinner raised an eyebrow. "This should be good."

"Didn't you see all those smoldering looks?"

"I must have missed it during all that gun play."

"And we all know that violence is sublimated passion."

"You bite my nose, Mulder, and I'll bite your ass."

"Promises, promises." Grinning wickedly, he began to teasingly sing along with the credits, "'You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch, I want to hold you so much."

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes, then Skinner whispered softly, "I love you, baby, and if it's quite all right, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights." Mulder grinned and turned in Skinner's arms, pulling his head down for a kiss.

* * *

"My mother's flight arrives at 1:30," Skinner said over breakfast the next day.

Mulder nodded, feeling a little disappointed at the interruption of their weekend. "I’ll push off, then. Give you and your mom some time together."

"Actually, she's looking forward to meeting you."

Mulder looked at him, stunned. "You told her - about us?"

"Of course."

"And she didn't have a coronary?"

"I told you that my parents have known about my bisexuality for years. Mom can’t wait to meet you."

Mulder suddenly lost his appetite. "What did you tell her about me?"

"That I’m in love with you, and that you love me. I’ve talked about you before, in connection with work, so she knows who you are."

"And she didn’t try to convince you to seek psychiatric help?" Mulder couldn’t help the slightly bitter tone in his voice.

Skinner reached out to take Mulder’s hand and said quietly, "Don’t."

"What?"

"The way you put yourself down. Do you think I’m such a bad judge of character?"

"Don’t patronize me, Walter," Mulder said, irritated, and got up from the table. Skinner threw down his napkin and followed Mulder up to the bedroom where he found his lover packing his suitcase.

"What do you think you’re doing?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Going home," Mulder said shortly, throwing his clothes in the suitcase haphazardly.

"Why?"

Mulder swung to face him, suddenly furious. "Dammit, Walter, we should have talked before you told your mother about us! It should have been _our_ decision, not yours. And I can tell you this right now – I have no intention of telling _my_ mother! Not that she’d be interested."

"Okay, Fox," Skinner said quietly. "I agree that I should have talked it over with you, and I apologize. I hadn’t planned on telling her but we were talking about Christmas plans and I mentioned you and it just seemed the right time. But however it happened it’s done, and I don’t see that it’s worth fighting over."

"Well, maybe I do!" Mulder stomped into the bathroom and grabbed his shaving kit, throwing it into his suitcase. Suddenly he found himself spun around and flung down on the bed on his back, pinned down by Skinner’s body. "Damn it, Walter, get off me! I’m not in the mood."

Skinner grabbed the flailing hands and pinned Mulder’s wrists to the bed. "I’ll let you up as soon as you stop this shit and listen to me."

Mulder tried to break free but Skinner’s grip was too strong so he subsided, panting and glaring at Skinner. "You may be able to keep me here but you can’t make me listen."

Skinner’s lips twitched. "God, Mulder, you sound like my four-year-old nephew."

"And that’s another thing – you don’t take me seriously."

"In what way?"

"This is just about sex for you – having a regular piece of ass."

Skinner’s mouth tightened. "How dare you say that! This is about a hell of a lot more than sex! If it were just the sex, I would have kept this at the Club. Why would I risk my career just to nail you? And, as I recall, I was the first one to say ‘I love you’. Do you think I was just saying it? Were _you_ just saying it?"

Mulder closed his eyes. "No," he said quietly. "No, I meant it."

"And I meant it, too." Skinner leaned over to kiss Mulder. "Sure I love your body and I love making love to you. But I also love your brilliant mind, and your bizarre sense of humor, and your thickheaded stubbornness, and your principles. And I can’t help it if I’m so damn happy that you love me back that I want everyone to know. I can’t tell the world because of our jobs – at least I can tell my family."

Mulder had opened his eyes while Skinner was talking, watching his face with an unreadable expression. "Let go of my wrists, Walter." Skinner cautiously released him and Mulder slid his arms around Skinner’s waist. "I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry for what I said. But next time let’s talk about it, okay? Before you make any kind of announcement?"

"Okay." Skinner kissed Mulder again and the younger man wriggled suggestively under him.

"As long as we’re here…"

"Now who’s the one thinking just about sex?"

"Of course. I’m a slut and I admit it."

Skinner moved to get up, pulling Mulder up with him. "Later. We’ve got a plane to meet."

* * *

On the way to the airport, Mulder tried to picture Skinner's mother. And he tried to ignore the queasiness in his stomach at the thought of meeting her. What if she hated him on sight? What if she couldn’t accept the fact that her son was involved in a more or less permanent relationship with a man? Skinner had said that his parents had accepted his bisexuality – but that had been after the war and he had been in a long-term heterosexual marriage since then. What parent would accept him as a replacement for Sharon Skinner?

Skinner's mother turned out to be a tall serene-looking woman with soft, pure white hair and warm brown eyes very much like her son’s. She and Skinner embraced warmly, and Mulder stood with his hands in his pockets, not sure what to do.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Fox Mulder. Fox, this is my mother, Anne Skinner."

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Skinner," he said holding out his hand, but she pulled him into her arms for an embrace and kissed his cheek. He flushed a little but looked gratified.

"I've heard a lot about you from my son."

He grinned. "Any of it good, ma'am?"

"Some," she retorted. "And call me Anne. What would you prefer me to call you? I've heard you prefer 'Mulder' but Walter just called you 'Fox'."

"Yeah, he does pretty much what he wants to," Mulder said, looking over at Skinner from under his eyelashes. "Please, call me Fox."

They took her to a local restaurant and Anne amused them by telling them about how Skinner's nephew had tried to decimate the Christmas tree. Mulder countered with a story from a childhood Christmas, and then Anne had to bring up – over Skinner’s protest – the time that Walter had tried to boost his younger brother Jimmy up the chimney to make sure that it was safe for Santa to come down.

Mulder grinned at Skinner. "Always planning ahead even then, Walter."

"And then there was the time – "

"Mother!"

Anne laughed. "Oh, all right, Walter. What about you, Fox? Any nieces or nephews?"

Skinner closed his eyes briefly. Shit, he thought. He had never thought to tell his mother about Mulder’s family. He opened his eyes and looked anxiously at his lover, wanting to reach out to reassure him.

"It’s all right, Walter," Mulder said quietly. "My sister was abducted when we were children, Anne. A couple months ago I met a woman who claimed to be my sister and she has kids so, yeah, it’s possible that I’m an uncle."

Anne reached over to cover his hand with hers. "I’m sorry, Fox. I had no idea." Deftly she changed the subject and Skinner was relieved to see Mulder relax. The rest of the meal passed in humorous exchanges and lighthearted comments, then Mulder went to get the car while the two Skinners slowly followed.

Anne slid her hand into the crook of her son’s arm. "You're right," she said softly. "He's a beautiful, intelligent, well-mannered young man."

Skinner grinned. "Some of the time. He can be a pain in the ass, too."

"I can see that." She looked at her son, worried. "I can also see that he's a troubled young man. Are you sure that you know what you're getting into?"

"I'm sure, but at this point it's moot. I love him, Mom. I need him in my life. And he needs me."

"Walter, do you remember that book I used to read to you – ‘The Little Prince’?"

Skinner looked at his mother, puzzled. "Of course. Why?"

"Just remember the moral of that story: once you tame something, you are forever responsible for it. And forever can be a very, very long time."

Skinner was thoughtful as helped his mother into the car and then climbed into the front passenger seat. He glanced sideways at Mulder, thinking about the wild and skittish creature that he was slowly taming. Forever responsible. He thought that he could live with that.

* * *

Anne had not been to her son's apartment since he usually visited her in the family home so a grand tour was the first order of business. Then the three settled in front of a cheerful fire with coffee and dessert while they opened their Christmas presents to each other. Mulder was embarrassed to find that Anne had bought him a Christmas present - a set of glow-in-the-dark star charts to go with his telescope - when he didn't have anything for her and resolved to keep an eye out for something special for her before she returned home. Anne asked him a number of questions about his work and didn't seem to see anything strange about the types of cases he pursued; she was a good listener, he thought, and ended up telling her the back-stories about some of their cases, some of which Skinner hadn't even heard.

The sound of the mantle clock striking midnight surprised them all. "Well, I don’t know about you boys but I’m exhausted," Anne said, standing up. "I’m going to go up to bed."

"Sounds like a good idea," Skinner said. "Fox, would you show Mom where to find the extra towels and blankets while I lock up?"

Mulder made sure that Skinner’s mother was settled in comfortably and then headed back towards the living room. He felt uncomfortable about sharing Skinner’s bed while his mother was there and fully intended to spend the night on the couch but his lover intercepted him on the stairs.

"Aren’t you heading in the wrong direction?"

"Um – I thought I would sleep on the couch tonight – "

Skinner grinned and shook his head, pushing Mulder toward the bedroom. He closed the bedroom door behind them and pulled Mulder into his arms.

Mulder tried to pull away from Skinner, hissing, "I can't!"

Skinner ran a roving hand over the front of Mulder’s jeans. "Oh, but it's obvious you can."

"Your mother is in the next room!"

"She had two children - I think she's figured out how that happened." He nuzzled Mulder’s neck.

"Walter!"

"What?"

"That's - for god's sake, that's your parents you're talking about!"

"Fox, everyone's parents had sex. Did you miss that class in biology?"

"I'm going for the Immaculate Conception theory in my case."

Skinner grinned. "Yeah, well there are a number of guys in VCU who think you're the anti-Christ, so you may be onto something." He nipped Mulder's neck. "You could try being quiet."

Mulder snorted. "Yeah, tell me another story, Uncle Walt. You could gag me."

"Not here." Skinner unbuttoned Mulder’s shirt, kissing the exposed skin. "I guess we'll have to risk it."

"Or you could restrain yourself." Mulder groaned. "We could just _sleep_ together."

"Oh, I intend to _sleep_ at some point tonight – or tomorrow morning."

"Walter, you’re insatiable." Mulder’s shirt hit the floor and Skinner began teasing Mulder’s nipples with his tongue.

"I’ve never heard any complaints from you."

"You’ve never had your mother sleeping in the next room."

Skinner chuckled, reaching down to slowly unbutton Mulder’s jeans. "I never realized you were such a prude, Fox." He slid a hand inside the waistband of his boxers and stroked the silky warm skin of Mulder’s cock.

Mulder groaned and leaned his head on Skinner’s shoulder. "Dammit, Walter," he moaned. "Can’t you take ‘no’ for an answer?"

"Your lips are saying ‘no, no’, but your cock is saying ‘yes, yes’," Skinner said in his best Pepe Le Peu imitation.

Mulder chuckled weakly and bit Skinner’s neck through his shirt. "Brute. You understand that I’m giving in under duress."

"Duly noted and logged." Skinner pushed Mulder’s pants and boxers off his hips, tipped him back on the bed, and finished stripping him. "Just lie back and think of your country."

"The hell with that."

Mulder grabbed Skinner by the front of his shirt and pulled his lover down on top of him, then rolled with him. Skinner loved it when Mulder got aggressive and took the lead in their lovemaking and he cooperated fully as Mulder stripped him. Mulder straddled his lover and began nipping and kissing down his body, teasing his nipples and then moving lower across his belly. One hand grasped Skinner’s cock while his tongue softly and slowly moved up and down the shaft. His skillful tongue licked around the rim of the head then his mouth took in the head while his tongue titillated the opening.

Skinner drew in a breath with a moan. "God, Fox, you get better at this every time."

Mulder looked up from his work with a grin. "I had a good teacher." He went back to work, licking and sucking and driving Skinner crazy until the older man could feel that he was close to orgasm. Then he felt Mulder’s hand press hard at the base of his cock, stopping the flow.

"Bastard," Skinner groaned.

Mulder laughed softly. "You don’t want this party to end so quickly, do you?"

He added lube to Skinner's erection, then straddled Skinner's waist again and slowly lowered himself onto his lover's cock. Skinner groaned at the feeling of his cock sliding past the ring of muscle into Mulder's body and his hands moved up to grasp the slender waist. Mulder pushed himself up and then down again, pressing deeper with every stroke as his body began to adjust to the thick cock, and felt pleasure wash over him. He rested a hand on Skinner's chest, working Skinner's cock in and out of his body, his breathing becoming more ragged with each stroke. Skinner jerked his hips to meet Mulder's thrusts and slid a hand across Mulder's belly to grasp his lover's cock. Mulder groaned and increased his thrusting and Skinner stroked his hand over Mulder's erection in rhythm with the thrusts. He watched his lover's face above him: Mulder's eyes were half-closed, heavy with arousal, his face was flushed, and incoherent mutterings intermixed with pants and groans rolled unceasingly from his lips. Skinner increased the pace of his stroking and Mulder's thrusting became faster until he was slamming his body against his lover's. Then he threw his head back, letting out a gasping cry as he came and came across Skinner's chest. Skinner felt the fire from Mulder's orgasm race through him, setting his nerves to flame, and then he was exploding deep within his lover, crying out with his own release.

Mulder slumped down on Skinner's chest. "Damn," he said shakily. "I think I wore myself out." He sighed, lifted himself off Skinner, and curled up against his lover.

Skinner folded his arms around Mulder and kissed the sweaty forehead. He felt a pleasant lazy warmth flowing through his entire body. "It's okay. Go to sleep, babe." Mulder nodded and was asleep almost on the thought. Skinner untangled himself for a minute to retrieve the covers, then settled back and took his lover back in his arms. Mulder muttered something against his shoulder that could have been "love you", and Skinner was willing to believe that's what he heard. He smiled and let his eyes drift closed.

* * *

Anne Skinner woke up to the smell of coffee and glanced at the clock. Six a.m. Belting on a robe, she went downstairs to find Mulder lying on the couch in a darkened living room idly flicking through the channels on the TV.

"Morning, Fox. My, you’re up early! Is Walter awake, too?"

Mulder had awakened at four in the morning from one of his nightmares and had slipped downstairs so he wouldn't disturb his lover. He sat up to make room for Skinner’s mother on the couch. "No, ma’am. Would you like some coffee? I just made a pot."

"Don’t get up – I can get it myself." Anne Skinner fixed a cup of coffee and took it back in the living room, settling on the other end of the couch. While she sipped on her coffee, she surreptitiously studied her son’s lover. He looked a little tired – not that she was surprised, she thought hiding a sudden smile and thinking of the sounds that had penetrated closed doors last night. But this was a different kind of tired, one she had seen on her son’s face many mornings after his return from the war.

"Trouble sleeping, Fox?" she asked gently and he flashed her a surprised but diffident smile. It occurred to her that too few people had fussed over this young man during his life. "Walter used to have nightmares after he came home. I’d come downstairs to find him lying on the couch, like you, watching TV."

Mulder was fascinated by this glimpse into his lover’s past. "What was he like – when he was young?"

Anne smiled, relieved to see him perk up. "I brought a picture album with me – would you like to see it?" At Mulder’s assent, she fetched the album from the suitcase and they settled on the couch, the album on Mulder’s lap while Anne turned the pages and identified the pictures. There were baby pictures and birthday pictures and ones of the holidays. Mulder was fascinated to see Skinner as a skinny teenager with a mop of dark hair and an earnest expression, and then that same earnest expression on an older teen in a uniform with a buzz cut.

"This is a picture of his unit," Anne said softly, pointing to snapshot on the opposite page of several fresh-faced kids looking ready to face the world. "You know that they were all killed in an ambush?"

Mulder nodded. "Yes. Walter told me about it." He wondered which one of these kids – so young but whose eyes already looked like they had seen too much – had been Walter’s lover, but he was hesitant to ask.

Anne touched one of the young men and said quietly, "This was Murphy. Has Walter talked about him?"

Mulder shook his head. "He told me that he had a lover and that he was killed in the ambush." He studied the laughing man standing next to Skinner, wondering what he had been like and what would have happened if he hadn’t been killed.

"He’ll tell you when he’s ready." Anne turned the page and there were pictures of an older Walter Skinner with his father and brother and he recognized the cabin in the background. Then she turned the page again and he found himself staring at Walter and Sharon Skinner’s wedding pictures. Anne started to turn the page quickly but Mulder put out a hand to stop her and studied the posed portrait of the couple. They looked so happy, so much in love, and yet the marriage had ended in divorce. Sharon was somewhere on the West Coast he vaguely remembered hearing, far away from DC and conspiracies.

Mulder looked up at Skinner’s mother. "Anne, does this – bother you about Walter and me? I mean, you had a perfect daughter-in-law, must have expected grandchildren…"

Anne covered Mulder’s hand with hers. "Fox, I can truly say that all I wanted for my sons was for them to be happy. Walter tried to be happy with Sharon but they were just too different and it didn’t work out. But when I saw him yesterday at the airport – I haven’t seen him look this happy and relaxed in years. And that makes _me_ happy." She patted his hand and stood up. "Now, how about you give me a hand making breakfast? We’ll have that lazy son of mine out of bed in a minute once he smells my pancakes cooking."

"Okay, but I have to warn you – I’m a disaster in the kitchen."

"So was Walter when he was younger, and who do you think taught him to cook?" Anne smiled at Mulder. "Come on, Fox. Time my newest son learned how to handle the dangers and mysteries of the kitchen."

* * *

Scully smiled at her partner as she entered their office. "Morning, Mulder. How was your holiday?"

Mulder leaned back in his chair. "Great. Thanks for the book, by the way, and tell your mom that the fudge was delicious. How was your Christmas?"

"Wonderful. Charlie wasn’t able to make it, but Tara made up for it by having the baby just before I left. A little boy – Matthew."

"Congratulations, Aunt Dana."

"Thanks. So how was Christmas with Skinner? I saw his car in the parking deck so I assume that no violence took place."

"Not bad, actually. He’s a good cook, too."

"Skinner _cooked_? I’d have paid money to see that!"

"And then his mother came in town the next day, so I spent some time sightseeing with them." At Scully’s open-mouthed stare, he grinned. "What?"

"You? Sightseeing with Skinner and _his mother_?"

"I’ll have you know that most of my friends’ mothers find my boyish charm appealing," Mulder said with an impish smile. "Take your mother, for example."

"Must be an X-File," Scully retorted, then turned back to work. When she knew that Mulder was absorbed with his own work, she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. It looked like her plan had gone even better than she had hoped.

 


	16. Auld Lang Syne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a New Year's Eve and the gang's all here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "The Night is Still Young" by Billy Joel.

_I'm young enough to still see the passionate boy that I used to be_ _  
But I'm old enough to say I got a good look at the other side_ _  
I know we've got to work real hard, maybe even for the rest of our lives_ _  
But right now I just want to take what I can get tonight_ _  
While the night is still young_ _I want to keep making love to you_   
_While the night is still young_.

 

Mulder stared at the mirror in frustration. "I hate these things! I can never get them tied right." Strong hands turned him around and Skinner expertly tied the black bow tie while Mulder glared at his lover. "Why did I ever agree to go to this party with you?"

Skinner smiled, not in the least put out by Mulder’s bad temper. "Because I said ‘please’?"

"Remind me never to agree to anything before, during or after sex."

"So how much time exactly does that leave in your day for foolish promises?"

Mulder shot him a bird and Skinner chuckled, then went back into the main room to finish dressing. Mulder turned back to the mirror to brush his hair.

"What I don’t understand is why the formal dress," Mulder called back to Skinner. "I mean, wouldn’t a costume party be more in character?"

"They used to do that but the costumes got really out of hand. And then there was all the posturing that went with the typical Master/slave costuming. Besides," Skinner said as Mulder came out of the bathroom, "we Doms like looking at all you pretty boys in your tuxes."

Mulder grinned, starting to be restored to good humor, and Skinner thought again that Mulder was made for formal wear. In his black tux and starched white shirt, his lover looked incredibly hot and sexy. He slid his arms around Mulder’s waist and kissed him.

"Mmm. That’s nice," Mulder said, melting against his lover. "Are you sure that you don’t want to just stay up here tonight? You can tie me up and do wicked things to my body."

Skinner nipped at Mulder’s neck above his collar. "If you’re a good boy tonight, I promise you something special tomorrow."

Mulder’s eyes lit up and he pressed a row of kisses along Skinner’s jawline. "Can I persuade you to give me a little demonstration now?"

"Brat," Skinner growled affectionately. "Time to go."

The party was in full swing when they arrived downstairs and they looked around appreciatively. Tables had been moved out of the dining room to create a dance floor and a number of men and women were gyrating to the music already. Buffet tables were set up in the foyer area, and a coffee/dessert bar in the library. Mulder could see Sean gesturing to them and they joined him and Mason.

"Well, I was wondering if you two were going to show up," Mason said with a smile. "Finally got out of bed, I see."

"Actually, Mulder was engaged in a life and death struggle with his tie," Skinner said solemnly. "It was a near thing, too."

Mulder gave him a mock-offended look. "Just for that, I'm not saving any dances for you."

Sean chuckled. "That's telling him, Mulder. Can't let these tops get to thinking they run _everything_. Come on." He dragged Mulder after him onto the dance floor.

Mason gave Skinner a humorous look. "Oh, they're full of themselves tonight. There won't be any living with them."

Skinner agreed and they found a table away from the noisy dance area, settling down with a sigh. Involuntarily, his eyes sought out a slender figure in the gyrating crowd on the dance floor, panicked for a moment when he couldn't find him and then felt a sudden wave of relief when he saw Mulder again.

"Relax, Walter," Mason said. "He's not going anywhere."

"You don't know Mulder very well," Skinner said ruefully. "He's ditched his partner so often that Scully's thinking of putting a leash on him."

Mason's eyes narrowed. "Dana Scully? Little red-headed woman with a hell of a temper?"

Skinner nodded slowly. "You know her?"

Mason sat back, chuckling softly. "We made each other's acquaintance when she attempted to break into the club a couple weeks back. Did you know that she was following Mulder?"

"She told him about it, told him that she had seen him coming in here. She didn't mention that she tried to break in."

"She never had a chance. The White House isn't as well protected as this place."

"The White House isn't keeping as many secrets - well, not keeping them as discreetly, anyway," Skinner said dryly. "Maybe they should think about hiring you."

Mason laughed. "I'd never take that job - it wouldn't be nearly as much fun. There's a special thrill about terrorizing poor, innocent subbies."

"You're a sadist, Geoff."

Mason nodded gravely, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. "Thank you, Walter." Skinner snorted. "So your Mulder is an FBI agent, too. Well, well - must make life interesting."

"Too interesting at times," Skinner said dryly. He looked back out towards the floor. "He was devastated when she found out."

"Can't blame him. It can be hard enough accepting this aspect of one's self without having to explain it to others who don't understand. Does she know about you?"

Skinner shook his head. "No. She knows that he's seeing a man here but nothing more." He glanced at Mason. "One of his friends does, though. Did you know your system had been hacked?"

"Not until too late," Mason said ruefully. "A backdoor created by one of the original programmers - he very kindly let us know about it so we could lock the door behind him. There was no way to tell what he was looking for, though. So he made you?"

Skinner nodded. "He'll be okay - as long as Mulder's okay." Skinner sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Damn. This just gets more and more complicated. You know that if I screw this up I might have to eat my own gun - it would be infinitely less painful than what those two would do to me."

"Well, you know the answer to that one - don't screw it up."

"Easy for you to say," Skinner said with a snort. "I feel like I'm walking through a mine field at midnight with a match for light. I gave him my house key, for Christ's Sake, and he had a full-blown panic attack. The man's been screwed so many times by everyone from his parents to his lovers to his bosses…and I'll be damned if I'll add my name to the list."

"You think he'd talk to Dr. Malone? She did Sean a world of good."

Skinner shook his head. "He hates shrinks with a passion." He sighed. "I'll just have to manage this on my own."

"No," Mason said with quiet force. "You're not on your own, Walter. We're family, remember? He belongs to you, and you'll always belong to me, so that makes him my responsibility, too. Anytime you need my help, just ask." He smiled suddenly. "Let me rephrase that. If you _don't_ ask for my help, I'll come after your ass and you _know_ I can make you sorry."

Skinner grinned at him. "Sadist."

"And damn proud of it. Now go find your boy and enjoy the party."

Skinner laughed and stood up. "Yes, _sir_ ," he said, looking back over the dance floor for Mulder. And when he found him, his blood suddenly went cold.

 

* * *

Mulder protested weakly as Sean dragged him into the crowd of dancers but Sean ignored him. "Come on, Mulder! It's New Year's Eve! We've young and alive and in love with the two most gorgeous hunks here - let's celebrate!"

"So why am I dancing with you instead of him?" Mulder asked, trying not to betray the unease he felt being in the middle of a gyrating crowd.

Sean rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Mulder, try not to be so clueless! Didn't your mother ever teach you how to play hard-to-get?"

"My mother was too busy with her own games," Mulder said dryly.

"I can see that your education has been sorely neglected," Sean laughed. "Never mind - Uncle Sean will show you the ropes. Now you just dance and have a good time and totally ignore him - it'll drive him crazy."

"And the point of this would be - ?"

"Oh, you'll find out later when he drags your ass back upstairs. Nothing hotter than a jealous top."

Mulder frowned. "I don't want to make Walter jealous - I would never hurt him like that."

Sean rolled his eyes again. "Mulder, _buy_ a clue, okay? It's a _game:_ you know it, he knows it, and your ass'll thank you in the morning. Now get in there and enjoy yourself."

Small but forceful hands propelled him into the center of the writhing mass of people and he had to fight down a sudden surge of panic. He swallowed hard, heard Sean's lighthearted chatter nearby, and forced himself to relax. Jesus Christ, but he hated this kind of thing - too much noise and too many people. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, to move with the music.

"Somehow I didn't think this would be your scene, Mulder."

His eyes snapped open at that familiar voice and he saw amused green eyes only a few feet away. God, the man looked incredible in his tux came a sudden, unbidden thought, to be resolutely pushed to the back of his thoughts. "Krycek. What are you doing here?"

"I'm a Club member, too, remember?" Krycek's voice was slightly mocking, the same tone in it as the day he had brought Mulder here. "I see that you've ditched Papa-Bear."

Mulder frowned. "What in the hell do you want, Krycek?"

"What, I can't drop in to see my favorite paranoid G-man?" Krycek said, that teasing tone sending a shiver up Mulder's back as his eyes raked over the older man's body. "And it was definitely worth the trip. You look good enough to eat."

"Sorry, Krycek. This menu item is spoken for already."

"Wasted, baby, and such a shame," Krycek said with mock mourning. "Such a delicacy should be enjoyed by a true connoisseur and not wasted on such plebeian tastes." He reached out to caress Mulder's cheek.

White-hot fury mixed with something he couldn't and didn't want to name. He slapped away Krycek's hand. "Get the hell away from me and stay away!" He turned and headed back through the crowd toward the table where he had left Skinner.

"Later, baby," he heard that mocking voice call after him, and he nearly broke into a run, dodging around the dancers until a sudden strong pair of hands grabbed him and spun him around.

"Well, look what I've got here. You clean up nice, alley cat."

Terror flooded through Mulder, making him desperate to get away, and he felt the amusement in the sharp eyes watching him. "Let me go - "

"Not so fast, boy. We have some unfinished business."

"Ah, there you are, Fox." That cool, crisp voice washed over Mulder and he nearly collapsed in relief. "I believe that this is my dance. If you'll excuse us, Benett." A firm hand on his arm, and he was being led away from those cruel eyes, feeling them bore into his back. He barely was aware that the music had changed again to a slow dance song until he felt strong arms wrap around him.

"I’ll lead."

There was no reason why this should make him laugh but it did. "Of course." Mulder laid his head on Skinner’s shoulder and relaxed, feeling the tension and terror drain out of him. He closed his eyes, letting Skinner guide him as they slow-danced. Mulder was amazed at how comfortable this felt, how easily they moved together. Then he smiled; well, why should that surprise him? Someone had once told him that slow dancing is sex with your clothes on, and they were very, very good at sex.

"Fox," Skinner murmured into his lover's ear, feeling the tension seep out of the muscles under his hands.

"Mmm?" Mulder's voice was full of lazy contentment.

"You're not falling asleep on me, are you?"

Mulder laughed softly again. "Does this feel like I'm asleep?" he asked, rubbing against the other man's body.

Skinner drew in a sharp breath. "No, parts of you seem to be very awake."

Mulder moved back a little so that he could look up at Skinner with a gleam in his eyes. "Want to take me upstairs and do something about this?"

Skinner smiled and drew Mulder back against him. "In a little while. I want to finish this dance first."

Mulder smiled and put his head back on Skinner's shoulder.

 

* * *

They slipped away from the party long before the countdown, pausing in the shadow of a doorway to neck like teenagers. Mulder stifled a moan against Skinner's shoulder as his lover nipped and sucked at his neck, the hated bow tie long gone and unmourned.

"God, Walter, that feels so good…"

Skinner pushed Mulder against the wall, pressing his body against the other man's and rubbing slowly up and down. "Shhh. No talking." Skillful fingers unbuttoned Mulder's shirt and a mouth traveled down from his neck to his nipples, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Mulder moaned and clutched at Skinner's head, caressing the skin under his fingers. Skinner's mouth moved back up to possess him and he moaned, trying to hold onto the single rational thought left in his brain.

"Sir - I remembered."

Skinner paused briefly and looked at him, puzzled. "Remembered what?" He returned his attention to Mulder's neck, nipping at his favorite spot where the neck joined the shoulder.

Mulder gasped and tried to remember what he had been thinking, and Skinner laughed softly, loving to see passion reduce this brilliant man to mindlessness. "This!" He dug in his pocket and produced lube and a condom with an air of triumph that made Skinner laugh again.

"Very good, boy," he said in a voice smoky with controlled passion, and Mulder shivered in delight. "I shall have to come up with something extra special for you tomorrow."

"And tonight, sir?"

"Tonight," Skinner whispered against his ear as he unfastened Mulder's pants. "Tonight I'm going to fuck you till you can't see straight."

Mulder groaned and dropped his head onto Skinner's shoulder and said weakly, "Sounds like a plan to me."

 

* * *

Mid morning on the first day of what looked to be the start of a wonderful new year, and Mulder surveyed his lover from the wreck of the bed, finishing a blueberry muffin while he watched Skinner pull a paper bag out of his suitcase. "What's in the bag?"

"Take a look." Skinner tossed the bag up onto the bed, and Mulder sat up.

Mulder opened the sack and reached in, pulling out a box of small tea candles and a white paraffin candle. "Mood lighting?"

"Nope. Guess again."

Mulder grinned. "I'm afraid to guess. You're even more perverted than I am - and that's saying something." He pulled out the next item - a pet's squeaky toy. "For me? Walter, you sentimental fool, you shouldn't have."

"Smart ass."

Mulder reached into the bag and pulled out the last item, a leather contraption that made him draw in a quick breath and he quickly set it down on the bed. "Oh."

"You know what it is?" Skinner asked quietly.

"I - it's a ball gag, isn't it? I saw a picture in one of the books…" Mulder's voice trailed off and he looked at Skinner uncertainly.

"That's right. And from now on, whenever I'm going to introduce something new, I will be doing it like this - letting you take a good look at whatever the toys are, handle them, get used to the idea before we begin playing. If there is anything that makes you uncomfortable, we'll talk it over." Skinner picked up the leather contraption. "What makes you uncomfortable with this? Being unable to call out for help?"

Mulder nodded. "How can I use my safe words when I can’t talk?" It had been a while since he had felt the need to use his safe words, although at the beginning – when being bound for more than fifteen minutes had sent him into panic - he had used his emotional safe word a lot. And even though he hadn’t felt the need to use his words recently, just the thought that he could and the knowledge that he could trust Skinner to honor them made him feel safe and secure.

Skinner picked up the toy. "That's what this is for. You'll hold this and if you should become upset and need to call either safe word, you just squeeze on this and I'll stop, take off the gag, and we'll talk."

"Why a gag? I mean, I understand using the blindfold - it makes me concentrate on what I feel rather than what I see. But I'll still be able to see - " Mulder looked suddenly apprehensive. "You aren't going to do both, are you?"

Skinner shook his head. "No, you’re not ready for that – it would be much too intense for you. Gags are just another aspect of sensory deprivation to alter your perception. You won't be able to speak but you can make noises and bite. And it forces you to breathe slower and relax."

Mulder picked up the ball gag, turning it over in his hands and studying it. "Okay," he said finally. "I'm game. So what are you planning to do once you get me all tied up and helpless?"

Skinner picked up the candles. "Hot and cold play. You'll like it - trust me."

"Always," Mulder said softly, and swung his legs off the bed, standing up. "Well, I'd better go get cleaned up and shave. I didn't have a chance to do that before the party last night."

"Definitely," Skinner said with a glimmer in his eyes. "Wax is a bitch to get out of your hair."

"I think I should be worried - you're getting that evil-Dom look in your eyes," Mulder said with a laugh as he leaned over to give Skinner a kiss.

Skinner laughed softly. "Be afraid - be very afraid." He popped Mulder lightly. "Now get your ass in that shower."

"Yes, _sir_!" Mulder sauntered into the bathroom, and Skinner had to laugh again. Mulder was definitely full of himself today. Then he began to get the scene set for their game.

By the time Mulder came out of the bathroom, Skinner had stripped off the covers and put a protective sheet over the bed. The new toys were waiting on the nightstand. Skinner gestured for Mulder to come to him, and Mulder automatically assumed the presentation position with his hands locked behind his neck and his feet spread apart. Skinner ran a hand over his chest and down to his groin, checking that he was completely shaven, then pushed on Mulder's back so that he bent over to allow Skinner to check that he was clean-shaven and lubed.

"Very good," Skinner said approvingly, then picked up the collar and fastened it around Mulder's neck. "Lie on the bed on your back, hands on the headboard." Mulder obeyed and Skinner quickly attached his wrist cuffs to the center wall ring. Then he picked up the squeaky toy and put it in Mulder's right hand, using a piece of medical tape to secure it. He had Mulder give it a couple of squeezes, adjusted its position, and was finally satisfied. "Remember, if you get into any kind of discomfort - physical or emotional - squeeze that a couple times. I'll also be checking in with you from time to time, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm going to put on the gag now." Skinner inserted the foam ball into Mulder's mouth, making sure it was comfortable and that Mulder could breathe, then fastened the leather straps. "Does that feel comfortable?" Mulder nodded. "Good." Skinner turned to the nightstand and lit the tea candle, then turned back to Mulder. He found that the younger man's eyes were on him, looking a little nervous about the whole thing. Skinner smiled reassuringly and ran a gentling hand over Mulder's body. "Relax, Mulder. Breathe. In. Out." Mulder found himself automatically relaxing as Skinner talked. "That's it, that's good."

Skinner continued to caress Mulder gently with just his fingertips, feeling the tension melt away in that wonderfully responsive body to be replaced by the first shivers of arousal. He smiled and picked up a small cloth, laying it on Mulder's stomach, then placed the tea candle on top of the cloth. "Stay still, now. You don't want to spill the wax." He picked up a paintbrush and dipped it in the melted wax, then painted light strokes along Mulder's abdomen Mulder drew in a breath at the feeling - the brush tickled a little and the wax was just warm enough to register against his skin, quickly cooling. More brushing across his abdomen and then his chest, tickling and teasing and incredibly arousing, and Mulder wanted to beg for more but the gag reduced his pleas to soft moans. Skinner's eyes were on his face, gauging his reactions. The brush moved across Mulder's nipples and he moaned again.

"Like that, do you?" Skinner smiled. "How about this?" He stroked the brush down Mulder's cock, smiling at the reaction. "Mmm. I guess that you do." Mulder groaned and wiggled slightly. "More?" Mulder nodded vigorously and Skinner laughed. "You are such a sensualist. That's one of the reasons I enjoy playing these games with you." He continued painting with wax until the tin was empty and Mulder was nearly panting with need, fully aroused.

"I think we need to cool you down a little, boy." Skinner set the paintbrush and the empty wax tin on the nightstand and picked up a small bowl. Selecting an ice cube, he ran it along the wax trail on Mulder's chest. Mulder arched up in surprise, gasping and trying to swear around the gag, and Skinner chuckled. "Swearing at me, boy? Good thing I gagged you, isn't it?" Mulder glared, then winced and shivered as the ice cube ran over his nipples. "Sensitive, are they? Then you're going to _love_ this." Mulder, anticipating his next action, pulled his legs together and tried to roll his hips sideways in an attempt to shield his cock. "Oh no you don't!" Skinner caught his hips, pinning him, and selected a rounded ice cube. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you for that."

Mulder's eyes widened and he attempted to swear again. _Shit!_ he thought as a cold object was deftly inserted into his anus. Damn, that's cold!

"Now lay flat, and keep those legs spread." Mulder complied, wincing and hoping the damn thing would melt quickly. Skinner trailed more ice cubes over his body, noting with satisfaction that Mulder's erection had diminished significantly. He put the bowl back on the nightstand and picked up the paraffin candle, lighting it. "This is paraffin, just like the other, so it won't burn you," Skinner said reassuringly. The wax was melting nicely now, and he lifted the candle high above Mulder's chest, tilting it to allow just one drop to fall, watching Mulder's face the entire time. Mulder flinched slightly when the hot wax touched his skin and then relaxed - the dripped wax was a little warmer than the painted-on wax but not unpleasant and the warm feeling quickly faded. The candle hovered over him again, a little closer to his chest, tilted, and a trail of wax drops crossed his abdomen. Hotter than before, a slight sting and then quickly fading away to leave just a tingle on his skin. More wax trails and he was groaning again, feeling his arousal growing. Then a steady stream of drops over his left nipple - drip, sting, cool, then another drip and each layer warmed the lower layers. Then the other nipple got the same treatment and he was groaning, begging through the gag for more.

Skinner spread Mulder’s legs to expose the inside of Mulder's thighs, running a trail of wax drops along the sensitive skin. Mulder groaned at the fleeting sting, wanting and needing more intense sensations. He felt as if his entire body was tingling, all of his nerve endings warm and alive. Skinner pushed his knees up to his chest and reached up to release Mulder’s wrists.

"Hold your knees back," he ordered, placing Mulder’s hands where he wanted them. Mulder obeyed, feeling wide open and displayed, trying to keep still as Skinner stroked a lubed finger into him, gently stretching him. Then, to his complete surprise and embarrassment, he felt Skinner insert the end of the candle into his anus. He glanced down and saw that he had been turned into a candleholder and watched the wax run slowly down the candle. Involuntarily he twitched and several drops of wax dropped onto his ass, stinging and then leaving tingling warmth behind.

"Keep still," Skinner ordered. Mulder groaned and then, as he felt Skinner slowly stroke his cock, he desperately clutched his knees in an effort to keep from moving. Any twitch, any movement, made the wax splash down on his skin and the delicious stinging enhanced the heat that Skinner’s hand was generating within him. His eyes met Skinner’s imploringly, begging to be allowed to finish, and the older man deliberately increased his movements while twisting the candle slowly. Sweat broke out over Mulder’s body as he desperately tried to keep back his climax and keep from moving at the same time. He was moaning constantly now, biting the gag in his mouth, nearly desperate in his need. Then Skinner smiled, nodded, and swiftly removed the candle in the same instant. Mulder came hard, feeling his body arch off the bed as he screamed around the gag, and then slumped bonelessly back onto the bed.

Skinner swiftly removed the gag and set it aside, then poured a glass of water and supported Mulder as he gulped it down. Mulder closed his eyes and sank back down, still shaking all over from the intensity of his climax. He felt gentle hands stroke his hair and face and forced his eyelids open, smiling up at the beloved face above him.

"Permission to speak, sir?" he whispered, his mouth still feeling dry from the gag.

Skinner smiled. "Permission granted."

Mulder grinned weakly. **"** _Holy Shit_ , sir!"

And Skinner laughed, pulling Mulder into his arms and kissing him thoroughly.

 

* * *

A faint glow lit the darkness and he could smell the acrid smoke filling the room. "It is time."

"Your orders, sir?" Benett ran his tongue over cracked and bleeding lips, forcing words past a throat that was dry and raw from screaming.

"I want him broken. And I want him alive." He shrugged. "The details are unimportant."

"Yes, sir." A gleam lit Benett's eyes. It was rare that his master allowed him to play as he wanted. "It shall be done as you wish."

"Good." The man rose and walked to the door, pausing to stub out his cigarette. "Because Jason - "

"Sir?"

"You know what will happen if you fail."

Benett shuddered, his throat suddenly tight. "Yes, sir."

"Very well. Oh - and if Skinner gets in the way - "

"Yes, sir?"

"Kill him."


	17. Something Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder is abducted and his friends race to rescue him before it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang on, folks, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. WARNING: This chapter contains non-consensual SM, and this is not how responsible tops play. But it’s the bad guy, folks, and we all know that they don’t follow the rules. The violence depicted is not too detailed, more suggestive than realistic.
> 
> Chapter quote comes from Shakespeare's Macbeth Act 4, Sc. 1.

_By the pricking of my thumbs_

_Something wicked this way comes._

 

Skinner came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist to find Mulder dressed and zipping up his bag. "Ready to go?"

Mulder nodded. "I’m meeting Scully at the airport but I have to stop by my apartment to pick up my suitcase." He crossed the room to slide his arms around Skinner’s waist. "I wish I could stay longer. You look very sexy this morning."

Skinner kissed Mulder tenderly. "I’m going to miss you. Have a safe trip – and try not to break anything important."

Mulder chuckled. "Are you referring to my cell phone or my person?"

"Your cell phone, of course. Do you have any idea how those losses affect my budget?"

"Asshole," Mulder said affectionately. "Give me one good kiss to hold me over and then I’m out of here." Skinner willingly complied and when Mulder came up for air his eyes were glazed over. "Jesus, Walter."

Skinner chuckled and ran his thumb over Mulder’s full bottom lip. "That’s just to remind you what you have to come home to when this case is wrapped up."

Mulder was still smiling when he entered the elevator, thinking about the past weekend and reliving the kiss. Which is why he didn’t notice the man already in the elevator until an arm was around his neck and a cloth was over his nose and mouth.

 

* * *

Scully was furious with her errant partner. She paced at the terminal gate becoming increasingly angrier as minutes dragged by and he still hadn't shown up. Then, as their plane left without them, she started to get worried. It wasn't like Mulder to miss a flight, especially when he was looking forward to a case like this one. She tried his cell phone again but either it was dead or turned off. She checked her voice mail at home and work but there was no message. Finally she dialed the Lone Gunmen and Langley answered.

"Langley, have any of you seen or heard from Mulder?"

"Hold on." She heard his muffled voice asking questions. "Nope. Not for a couple days. Why?"

"He didn't show up for our flight and I can't reach him at home or on his cell phone. He didn't leave me any messages, either. I'm on my way to his apartment."

"We'll check around and call you back."

 

* * *

Mulder drifted out of darkness, feeling an uncomfortable tightness on his wrists, a strain on his arms. He groaned and heard a damnably familiar voice from the darkness.

"Hello, alley cat."

He raised a head that seemed heavy and forced his eyes open. "Benett." He spat out the name.

Benett grabbed his hair and pulled his head up. "I see we still haven't learned any manners. You will call me 'sir' or 'master', boy."

"The hell I will."

"Oh, you will, boy. By the time I am through with you, you will be glad to call me Master."

 

* * *

Scully arrived at Mulder's apartment and found that there wasn't a trace of her partner although his suit bag and suitcase were packed and waiting by the door. Her stomach began to knot. She checked his phone messages but there was nothing there, either. Once again she checked her voice mail at work, Mulder's voice mail, and then her home answering machine. Nothing. Where in hell could the man be?

There was a knock at the door and she opened it to see a worried-looking Frohike standing there.

"He's not here, is he?"

"No, and I'm worried."

"You should be. None of my contacts have seen him but there's something going on around the fringes of the Consortium." Frohike shut the door. "Do you know if he was going to the Dionysus Club this past weekend?"

Scully nodded. "He said that he would be there. I tried his cell phone but it’s dead or turned off. Do you think that place has something to do with his disappearance?"

"Maybe. Look, Scully, I know that this makes you uncomfortable but I think you should know something about the club. A couple weeks ago, I heard from – a friend of Mulder’s that the person who originally took Mulder there was trying to have him broken by one of Cancerman's goons. Only someone else got there first and became Mulder's - uh - top. But I can’t imagine Cancerman giving up that easily and I think he may have something to do with this disappearance."

"Could Mulder's friend be involved in his disappearance?"

Frohike shook his head. "No, absolutely not."

Scully stared at him, her eyes hard and suspicious. "You know who Mulder's friend is, don't you?" Frohike returned her stare, unblinking. "Damn it, Frohike, Mulder's life is at stake here! We’ve got to find someone who can get us into that club so we can find out what happened to Mulder!"

Frohike took a deep breath, then took her cell phone and dialed a number, handing it back to her.

"Skinner."

Scully frowned, giving Frohike a puzzled look. "Sir? I'm sorry to bother you, but I've got a serious situation. I've been talking with one of Mulder's friends - you remember the Lone Gunmen? - and he seems to think that it may be related to a club Mulder belongs to. The Dionysus Club."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a long minute. "I - am familiar with the place."

"Frohike thinks that Mulder may have been abducted by a member of the Club at Cancerman's instructions."

"Mulder's missing?" The voice was sharp.

"Yes, sir. He didn't show up for our flight out this morning, and his bags are packed and sitting by the door inside his apartment."

"Damn! Do you know the address of the Club?"

"Yes, sir - "

"Meet me there in fifteen minutes."

The connection was cut. Scully turned to Frohike. "He wants me to meet him outside the Club."

"I'm coming, too."

They were standing beside the steps when Skinner arrived and briskly walked up the stairs.

"Sir, they won't let us in - " Scully began but Skinner just nodded to the doorman.

"They're with me," he said, indicating Frohike and Scully.

"Very good, sir." The doorman held the door for them and Scully followed, speechless. She had to run to keep up with Skinner who was striding down the hallway as if he knew where he was going. A suspicion began to grow in her mind.

Skinner opened the door to the Secretary's office and Mason looked up. "Walter? Is there a problem?"

"Mulder is missing. It appears that he may have been abducted from here."

The Secretary's eyes went wide and he hurried through the side door to the Security room, followed by Skinner. "When did you last see him?"

"He left at six thirty this morning."

A security person immediately began punching up digital images while Mason accessed the Club's computer. "One card key was turned in at 7:15."

"That was mine."

"Then he never made it to the Front Desk, Walter."

"Here, sir," the security man said. "The elevators for that time period."

"There he is," Skinner said, pointing to a figure entering the elevator. "There's someone else in the back."

The picture suddenly clicked to a blank elevator, and the security man swore. "Someone rigged the camera - we wouldn't have noticed unless we were looking right at it when the switch occurred. Whoever was in the elevator with him must have done it."

"Jason Benett," said a voice from the doorway, and Sean walked in.

"Benett?" The Secretary asked with a frown. "Are you sure, Sean?"

Sean nodded. "He's been threatening Mulder again."

"Why didn't he tell me?" Skinner demanded, then remembered the incident at the New Year's Eve party.

"He didn't want to worry you. Thought he could handle it himself."

"Damn the man!" Skinner growled. "When I get my hands on him - "

"That would seem to be the problem, sir," said a cold voice and they all swung toward Scully. "Where's Mulder?"

"He's not on the premises," Mason said.

Security pointed out a picture from the time of disappearance that showed a car pulled up in front of the basement elevator. "He probably put the missing man in the trunk here."

"I'll get the DMV info on his car - " Skinner began.

Frohike spoke up. "I can get it for you faster if you've got a computer with Internet access." Sean led him back into the Secretary’s office.

 

* * *

Mulder's arms ached from the unnatural strain and he tried to shift his body to take his weight off them. A whooshing sound cut through the air and his back exploded into fiery pain again.

"Stand still!"

Mulder bit his lip and stopped moving. He could feel the riding crop running slowly over his back, then around his side to his abdomen, and a shudder ran through him. A rough hand twisted itself into his hair and pulled his head up.

"Not laughing now, are you, alley cat?" The voice was close to his ear, low and sensual. "I can change this, you know. Turn the pain into pleasure. All you have to do is acknowledge that I am your master."

Mulder opened his eyes and met Benett's with the full force of his hatred. "Go. To. Hell."

"You first."

The blows fell upon his back in swift succession and he couldn't stop the scream that was torn out of him. Blackness swirled around him.

_Walter, please…hurry._

 

* * *

Sean perched on a corner of the desk and watched Frohike manipulate the computer keyboard with the skill of a Don Juan seducing his lover, muttering encouragement and imprecations as he logged into systems and launched subroutines. Within a short period of time, he had the DMV information on Benett, as well as all known addresses.

"So you are our mysterious hacker," Sean murmured, grinning at Frohike. "You had our systems people in a fit after your break in - our system is supposed to be totally secure."

Frohike smiled back. "Well, it's a good system, but nothing is _totally_ secure. And I helped design it so I know where the back doors are. I hope you used those suggestions I sent you to keep other people out." He ripped off the printout and returned to the other room where he handed the paper to Skinner. Glancing around the room, he saw that Scully was still leaning against the wall, a look on her face when their eyes met that made him decide not to be alone with her at any time in the near future.

"Eight possible addresses," Skinner muttered. "We'll have to check them all out - he could be at any of them. Scully, come with me. Frohike, see if you can narrow down our choices - deliveries, services, anything that might give us a clue. We'll head to the first place on the list."

Skinner strode down the hallway and out of the building, Scully jogging to keep pace with him. He gestured for Scully to get in his car, then handed her the list and started the car.

"The first place on that list is also the closest. We'll head there first and, if he's not there, call back in and hope that Mr. Frohike has more news for us."

Scully sat in the passenger seat, her head swimming, feeling that in the space of a few short hours she had been bombarded with more information than she could process. However, one clear thought stood out.

"Sir, it's you, isn't it?" she asked Skinner, her voice tight. "The one he's meeting at the Club."

Skinner's eyes met hers briefly and then he returned his attention to the road. "Agent Scully, when we have Mulder safe I promise I will answer any questions you have, but not now."

Scully nodded, pressing her lips together in annoyance but she understood. She fished a map out of the glove box and concentrated on the addresses on the list, trying to plan the quickest way to hit each of them. Another thought occurred to her.

"Sir, they've had him for four hours. Do you think he's still alive?"

"They don't want him dead," Skinner said quietly. "Humiliated, humbled, broken yes, but not dead. Not yet." And he prayed that he was right. 

* * *

Benett grabbed him by the hair again, pulling his head up. "Who owns you?"

Mulder ran a tongue over dry, cracked lips. "Skinner."

The crop lashed his chest. "Wrong answer!" He released Mulder's head and it snapped back painfully. Benett picked up a knife from a side table and Mulder's eyes widened. Benett looked amused. "I'm not going to cut you, alley cat. Not yet. This is for another purpose." He grabbed Mulder's sweatpants by the waistband and, with one swift movement, slit the material down one side and then the other. Mulder clenched his eyes shut and locked his jaw as his torturer circled him, studying his naked body. "Very nice. No wonder your former master kept you on such a short leash." In the distance Mulder heard a phone ring. "Don't go anywhere - I'll be back."

Footsteps moved away from him and Mulder sagged in the restraints. _Walter_ , he thought weakly, _hurry …I can't…_

_//Yes, you can, Fox. Breathe//_

_Walter?_

_//Come on, babe. Remember the clips?//_

_Damn it, Walter - this is **nothing** like having clothespins on my tits for ten minutes!_

_//Pain is pain. Relax. Surf the pain. You can do it.//_

Mulder found himself breathing steadily and tried to consciously relax. His arms and legs were trembling, his back and chest were on fire, and he was scared to the depth of his being.

_I can't, Walter…I'm scared…_

_//I know, babe. I'm on my way. Just hold on//_

_I'll try. But hurry._

 

Footsteps came back into the room and he caught his breath, fighting down the panic. Breathe, he told himself. Just breathe. In and out.

Light glinted off the cane as it was lifted, then pain exploded across his buttocks followed by another wave of pain a second later. Mulder caught his breath on a sob, overwhelmed by the pain.

_I can't…I can't…_

_//Dammit, Mulder! Focus!//_

Pain exploded across his buttocks again, and he gasped. Focus, he thought desperately, remembering the way Skinner had gotten him past his fear of bondage. See the light behind your eyes, focus on it, and breathe evenly. The cane rose and fell rhythmically, the pain washing over him in double waves, and he pushed it back, focusing on the light. Breathe. See nothing but the light. Feel nothing but your own breathing. He could feel himself begin to drift, leaving behind his body and the pain, spinning slowly into the light.

 

* * *

The Smoker crossed the room to sit down in a chair near the English member of the Consortium. "I have good news," he said in a quiet, mocking voice.

The Well Manicured Man narrowed his eyes. What he saw as good news and what the smoker saw as good news were frequently at odds. "And what would that be?"

"Our most troublesome problem will soon be putty in my hands."

The Well Manicured Man stared at him with sudden sharpness. "You've taken Mulder?"

"My man has him right now and is - persuading him to be more cooperative."

"I thought we had agreed to let Mulder be - not risk him or his friends starting a crusade."

"That was always your opinion. My opinion is that the boy is getting out of hand and needs to learn who his true masters are." The Smoker smiled and it was not a pleasant smile. He hated the man sitting in front of him although he didn't believe that the Englishman had been behind his failed assassination. That wasn't his style - this man was usually more devious and clever.

"Did you clear this with Strughold?" The Smoker shrugged, and the English gentleman rose. "I'm going to speak with him about this." He left the room but went down to his car and Krycek got out, opening the passenger door in surprise.

"Done already, sir?"

"No." The Well Manicured Man looked inside the car and picked up a portfolio pad inside as if he had accidentally left it. Getting back out of the car, he avoided looking directly at Krycek. "Benett has Mulder," he said softly, sensing the slight stiffening of the man next to him. "You know where he will be. I want you to leave the car here, go around the corner and down several blocks, and get a taxi. Find Mr. Skinner and rescue Mulder - "

"I don't need his help rescuing Mulder - "

"Yes, you do," his patron said sharply. "You can't just walk into a hospital with him, and I expect that he will need a hospital quite badly. You need Mr. Skinner's help and he needs yours. Now go."

Krycek touched his fingers to his forehead in a mocking salute and shut the car doors. Once his employer had gone inside, he strolled casually down to the corner, as if going for a newspaper. Then, once he was out of sight from any observer, he ran like the devil was on his heels.

 

* * *

"Nothing," Skinner said in frustration as they came out of the third place. "Where now, Scully?"

"Skinner!" Skinner swung around at that familiar voice and saw Alex Krycek running toward him. "I heard that Mulder's been taken. Is it true?" he demanded, gasping for breath.

"What do you care? You set him up to begin with."

"I didn't know what was planned, I swear! I thought it was just a game, to take him down a peg." Krycek grabbed Skinner's arm. "I know where he'll be."

"Don't believe him, sir!" Scully said hotly. "He can't be trusted."

"Please," Krycek begged. "You know I wouldn't let him be hurt like this."

Skinner searched Krycek's face. "I know," he said quietly. "Get in the car. In the front. Scully, keep an eye on him."

Krycek seemed to recover a little of his usual insolence. "Don't trust me, Walter?"

"Not as far as I can throw you - except on one thing. Mulder's life."

They got into the car and Krycek gave them directions to a place that was not on their list. Scully sat in the backseat, glowering at Skinner, clearly distrustful of Krycek. Skinner ignored the waves of anger rolling out of the back seat, hoping that they got to Mulder before one of his passengers killed the other.

 

* * *

Ice cold water splashed over his face and his body, stinging the welts on his back and chest, bringing him back to consciousness.

"No fair, alley cat. Naps are not allowed."

Mulder ran a dry tongue over his lips, savoring the bit of moisture that clung to his face from his unexpected bath, sucking the moisture into his mouth. "Sorry," he croaked in a voice raw from screaming. "Didn't mean to spoil your fun."

"You'll be even sorrier before I'm through with you."

Sometime during the past hour he had become aware of the trembling throughout his body. A whip had replaced the cane and he felt wet trickles running down his back. I'm in trouble here, he thought vaguely, but it was hard to think with the roaring in his ears. Benett was saying something but he could hardly understand him over the noise.

Benett slapped him and he felt the blood from a cut lip trickle down his chin. "Who owns you, Mulder? Who do you belong to?"

"Skinner," Mulder muttered. Another slap, and he knew that Benett was becoming increasingly frustrated. Somehow that thought made him feel better and he smiled.

"You think this is funny?"

Mulder couldn't avoid the blows, the slaps across his face, the punches to his stomach. Agonizing pain exploded inside him and he retched uncontrollably. For the first time he thought that he might not make it, that he might die before he saw any of his friends again. Before he saw Skinner again. "Walter…" he whispered. "Sorry…"

 

* * *

Skinner stopped in front of the warehouse and said, doubtfully, "Are you sure, Krycek?"

Krycek nodded. "This is one of his favorite playgrounds."

"How can you be so certain?" Krycek gave him a silent, slightly mocking look. "Oh. Right. Well, give us the layout."

"Two entrances to the building, one to the playroom. That’s where he’ll probably be, but we'll need to split up to cover the entrances."

Skinner looked at Krycek. "You’ve played with him before, you know his style. What will he be doing now?"

Krycek shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but Skinner could see the shadows in his eyes. "Depends on Mulder’s stamina. Maybe the cane or the bullwhip. He won’t take him till he’s broken. Benett gets off on that kind of submission. How much do you think he can take before breaking?"

Skinner shook his head. "I don’t know. We don’t play heavy pain games." His eyes met Krycek’s and he saw the comprehension there.

"Then we need to get him out, and fast." Krycek pulled out his gun and checked it.

Skinner held out his hand. "Give me the gun, Krycek. Scully and I go in first and you follow." Krycek started to protest, but Skinner gripped his arm. "I want Benett alive, Krycek," Skinner growled using his control voice, knowing that Krycek would hate it but would obey by habit. Green eyes met his, then they were hidden again behind those impossible eyelashes. Krycek handed over the gun with an inner shrug. He had another one in his ankle holster and a couple knives hidden on his person - more than enough to deal with Benett.

They swept into the building, Scully taking the front door while Skinner and Krycek circled to the back door. Skinner went through first, followed by Krycek, but there was no one in the upstairs. Silently, Krycek led the way to the basement door and Skinner gave a silent count before they burst through the door. It appeared to be empty, and Skinner was turning to gesture for Scully and Krycek to fan out to check the other rooms when a shape came running out of the darkness.

"Walter!"

Skinner felt himself knocked to the ground as a sharp burning pain shot down his left arm. He could hardly breathe but he was aware of Benett running toward the inner room, the knife still in his hand. Scully dropped him with a single shot.

Skinner tried to sit up but it felt like a building had fallen across his chest. "Damn it, Krycek, get up," he growled, pushing at the man who had knocked him out of Benett's path. "You weigh a ton."

The body half-lying on top of him quivered with suppressed laughter. "You sure know how to ruin the magic of an intimate moment." Krycek pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand to help Skinner up. "He got a piece of you. Let me take a look at that cut."

Skinner pushed past him, saying, "It's only a flesh wound - I've had worse."

Krycek snorted. "You've been watching too many of Mulder's movies."

Skinner ignored him, pausing by Scully as she knelt by Benett, compressing the wound. She glanced up at Skinner briefly. "He'll live - I've called for an ambulance."

Skinner nodded but didn't stop, his eyes locked on the figure hanging from chains in the middle of the next room. "Fox," he murmured, lifting the slumped figure into his arms to relieve the weight on his wrists. "Krycek, keys."

Mulder's eyes fluttered open. "Walter," he whispered, trying to force sound past his wrecked vocal chords. "I knew you'd come."

Krycek appeared on the other side of Mulder with the keys and unlocked the manacles. Mulder looked at Krycek, puzzled but faintly amused. "Shit, Walter, who else did you bring to this party?"

"Scully - she's checking out your playmate. Frohike and Sean are holding down the fort at the Club." Skinner gently lowered Mulder to the floor, bracing him as best he could without rubbing the raw skin on his back. Mulder was pale and sweaty and Skinner was certain that he had suffered internal injuries. He hoped that the ambulance got here quickly. "You had a lot of people worried, babe."

"Sorry." Mulder's teeth started chattering in reaction and Krycek silently pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around Mulder's shoulders, then went looking for a blanket.

Skinner gently stroked Mulder's face. "You're going to be okay, Fox. We've got an ambulance on the way."

"Great," Mulder whispered. "Another hospital stay. My insurance is going to cancel on me." Mulder leaned into Skinner's chest, eyes closing. "Look pretty bad, huh?

"He did a number on you." The voice sounded so far away and Mulder felt so tired.

"I didn't break," Mulder whispered, letting the world spin gently around him. He was safe now. Walter had come; Walter would take care of him. He could let go and drift now. Mulder slid into unconsciousness.

Krycek located a blanket and wrapped it around Mulder, taking back his jacket. Then he lifted his head like a wild animal scenting danger. "Sirens. I've got to get outta here."

"Alex." Krycek turned back and caught the car keys tossed at him. "Leave a message to let me know where you ditch the car."

Krycek looked down at the keys, then back at Skinner. "Why are you doing this?"

"I know why you helped me find him. He'd want me to tell you thanks. Thanks from me, too."

Krycek shrugged. "Hey, consider it a present for old times' sake. And you'd better take good care of him."

"I'll do my best."

"You do that. I'll be watching." And then he was gone.

 

* * *

The ambulances loaded up Benett and Mulder, medical teams working over each of them. Scully and Skinner stood side by side watching, and each of them avoided looking at the other.

Finally, as they were getting ready to close the doors, Skinner said lowly, "Go with him, Scully. I'll finish up here."

She nodded and climbed up into the ambulance with Mulder. Skinner watched it drive off with an overwhelming sense of fatigue, then turned back to the crime scene team. Mulder was alive, Benett would never harm him again, and Cancerman was foiled one more time.

So why did his mouth taste of the ashes of defeat? And why - deep down inside - did he know that nothing would ever be the same?


	18. Ringside Seats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mulder recuperates after his ordeal, Scully and Skinner come to terms with the revelation of this relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "If I Never Knew You" from the "Pocahontas" soundtrack.
> 
> In this corner we have A.D. Skinner and in the far corner the challenger, Agent Scully. No hope of a clean fight, folks – just be glad if they survive. Oh, and brownie points if you get the "toaster oven" reference.

_I thought our love would be so beautiful_ _  
Somehow we’d make the whole world right._ _  
I never knew that fear and hate could be so strong_ _  
All they’d leave us are these whispers in the night_  
_But still my heart is saying we were right._

 

Skinner entered the hospital room and found it in partial darkness. His eyes automatically sought out the still form on the bed and he was relieved to see the even rise and fall of the covers. Then a slight figure rose from the side of the bed.

"How is he?" he asked Scully in a hushed voice. He had already spoken with Mulder's doctor. There had been some internal bleeding but no permanent organ damage done, although he might have permanent scarring from the whip marks. Thankfully, he had not been raped - Mulder would have enough issues to handle without that additional trauma.

"Sleeping. The doctor has him on heavy painkillers."

He moved toward the side of the bed. Determinedly, she placed herself between him and Mulder, her face set and her eyes hard. Skinner sighed. He was exhausted. He had endured hours of anxiety and more hours processing the crime scene, making sure that it was treated as the abduction/torture of a Federal agent, not as kinky-sex-gone-wrong - the last thing Mulder would need was sniggering behind his back when he returned to work. Finally, he had spent an hour in the emergency room having the knife slash on his left arm cleaned and stitched. He wanted nothing more right now than to sit quietly, hold Mulder's hand, and watch him sleep. He was not up for Trial by Scully.

Skinner pulled a chair over to the foot of the bed where he could at least watch Mulder's face and sank into it gratefully. "Agent Scully, it's been a long day. Can I make myself comfortable before you apply the thumbscrews?"

"Torture is not my thing. Is it yours?"

Skinner had removed his glasses and was rubbing his eyes wearily. The sharpness in her tone made his head snap up, his eyes blazing at her.

"You don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"I admit that I don’t have the extensive knowledge that you and Mulder have."

His lips tight, Skinner said, "Agent Scully, my personal life is none of your concern."

"It is when it involves the possible sexual harassment of my partner, who is also your subordinate. Sir. And unless you can explain this matter to my satisfaction, I _will_ go to the OPR."

"Are you _threatening_ me, Agent Scully?"

She stood her ground. "Yes, sir. I am."

Skinner was suddenly too tired to fight. He dropped his head then sighed. "All right, Agent Scully. What do you want to know? I warn you, though, I'm saving all the more lurid details for my book deal and Jerry Springer."

"How long have you and Mulder been involved?"

Skinner took a deep breath. "Almost six months."

"Did you take him to that Club?"

"No. Krycek took him there, as part of the smoking bastard's plan. Cancerman owns Benett and wanted him to take on Mulder, break him, then deliver him to Cancerman."

"So how did you get involved?"

"Another member of the Consortium found out and called me. He knew that I was a member years ago although I hadn't been there in a long time. There were only two ways to get Mulder out of the mess - convince him to walk away from the Club or take him on myself. He wouldn’t walk away."

"I see."

"I couldn't let Cancerman have him. And I can assure you that I am not into their kind of games, Scully. I would never intentionally hurt him."

"You’ll forgive me if I can’t see the difference between what they did and what you do – except in degree."

"Dammit, Scully, that’s like saying that there’s no difference between a boxing match and a mugging! There’s a hell of a lot of difference that comes down to three words – safe, sane, and consensual. Everything that Mulder and I do is mutually agreed upon and within limits with safety nets in place."

"Don’t give me that shit! We both know Mulder – we know how much guilt he carries around. He’d be likely to agree to anything to expiate that guilt – he probably thinks what happened to him today is his fault!"

"And it’s my responsibility to help him relieve that guilt without hurting himself."

"And you get off on it, don’t you? Controlling another human being like that – it must give you an almighty high!"

"It’s not like that, Agent Scully. If you’ll let me explain – "

"Why? Trying to pull me in, too? Do you get some kind of reward for bringing new members into that perverted sex club?"

Skinner held onto his temper – it would do no good to yell at her. "Darn," he said ironically. "You caught on. One more member and I would have been in the running for a toaster oven."

Scully glared. "Don’t push me, Skinner! I still hold Mulder’s Power of Attorney, and I can have you barred from his room!"

Skinner stared at her, appalled, too stunned to be angry. Scully stared back at him, fiercely determined to protect her partner and friend. In the silence they heard a single pair of hands slow-clapping.

"Geoff, I know you trained Walter and favor him in a fight, but my money is on the feisty red-head."

Scully swung around, startled, to see Geoffrey Mason and the short, red-haired man that she had seen earlier at the Club standing in the open doorway.

"I don’t know, Sean," Mason said mildly. "I liked the irony in the toaster oven line."

"Too last-year, Geoff." Sean’s eyes were glittering dangerously. "On the other hand, you just gotta love her balls, threatening to throw Walter out of his lover’s sickroom."

Scully glared at him. "I don’t know who you are but – "

"Sean Matthews – owner of the perverted sex club. Oh, and Walter, you’re still in the running for that toaster oven. Mr. Frohike asked for a tour and was quite impressed by our Dungeon and sex shows." Sean's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Sean," Mason said sternly. "Behave." He stepped forward and held out a hand, smiling slightly at Scully. "Agent Scully, a pleasure to see you again."

Dazed, she found herself shaking his hand. "I – hello, Mr. Mason."

"How is our boy? We’ve all been worried about him," Mason asked gravely.

"He’ll live," Scully said shortly, looking back toward Mulder and building steam again. "No thanks to – "

"Scully. Shut. Up."

The voice was weak and thready, but there was a stern sub-tone to it that was new. Everyone turned toward the bed to see that Mulder’s eyes were open.

"If you guys – want to fight – over a sickbed," he murmured haltingly, "take it – down the hall. I’m sure - Benett is – short on - visitors." His eyes slid closed again.

"Come, Agent Scully," Mason said persuasively, taking her by the arm. "We’ll give Mulder some quiet and you can bring us up to speed on his condition."

Skinner watched in amusement as Mason ushered a speechless Scully into the hall, then he turned back to Mulder. He sat down in the chair next to Mulder’s bed and reached out to gently brush the hair off Mulder’s face.

Mulder’s eyes drifted open and he managed a faint smile. "Hi, you."

"Hi, yourself," Skinner said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, actually," Mulder said in a dreamy voice. "Must be on the good shit. Does my health care plan cover this?"

Skinner laughed softly. "Nothing’s too good for you, babe." He picked up Mulder’s hand and kissed the palm, then cradled the hand against his cheek. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Mulder’s eyes drifted shut, then popped open. "Don’t leave."

"I won’t. Get some rest now."

Mulder nodded sleepily, wrapped his long fingers around Skinner’s, and let his eyes drift shut.

Scully slowly walked back toward Mulder’s room, still feeling a little dazed by her encounter with Geoffrey Mason. He had been unfailingly polite, had asked intelligent questions about Mulder’s condition and treatment, but all the while she had been aware of an undercurrent of something dangerous that told her this was not a man to be pushed. When he finally left with the still-hostile Sean in tow, she was amazed to find herself promising to keep them appraised of any changes in Mulder’s condition. Who _is_ that man, she thought, and how does he _do_ that?

In the open doorway to Mulder’s room, she stopped and stared in stunned surprise. Skinner was sitting next to Mulder’s bed, one hand gently stroking Mulder’s hair while the sleeping man held the other hand as if it was a lifeline. Skinner had removed his glasses and he looked oddly vulnerable without them, all his emotions reflected on his face. The love and affection there was so strong, the suffering so painfully evident, that she felt tears coming to her own eyes. Blindly, she backed away from the door and fled down the hall, looking for a quiet place to sit and think.

The hospital chapel was empty and she slipped into a pew and buried her face in her hands. Too much had happened too soon and the whole world felt as if it was upside down. Her partner and her boss were playing sex games at an S&M club and it had been going on for six months. No, more than that, her boss and her partner were _in love_. She had wanted Skinner to take an interest in Mulder, to mentor him, but this?

Dozens of scenes over the past few months came into her mind, all reinterpreted with this new information: Skinner’s reaction to her teasing Mulder about the flowers, Mulder’s sudden change in behavior, that silent power struggle over the Iowa case and Mulder's unexpected surrender. And then, clear as a photograph, the look on Mulder’s face when he came back from Thanksgiving and saw the rose on his desk. She had never seen him so content, so happy. There had been so little love in Mulder’s life before this – if he was loved now did it matter what form that love took? If they had been involved in a normal gay relationship, would she have been this upset? She had to smile at that thought – how would _she_ know what a normal gay relationship was?

Scully sighed, leaned her head down on her hands on the railing, and closed her eyes. It had been a long, long day, and she was so very tired. 

* * *

Skinner looked up from where he was dozing next to Mulder’s bed, awakened by a soft touch on his arm. "Mom! I didn’t expect to see you here."

Anne Skinner kissed her son’s cheek and looked at him with mock severity. "You expected me to just sit at home when one of my boys is in the hospital? How is he?" She carefully sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Mulder’s hair.

"Pretty much out of it right now," Skinner said. "He’s had some internal damage that they’re keeping an eye on, and his back was torn up. They’re keeping him doped up because of the pain, and he’s on major antibiotics." He rubbed his eyes wearily.

"You need to get some rest, Walter. You look dead on your feet."

"I can’t – he needs me here. He keeps throwing off the sedatives and waking up if no one’s here with him."

"You go home and get some sleep, and I’ll sit with him."

"Mom – "

"Don’t argue with me, Walter Sergei Skinner. You won’t do him any good if you’re exhausted."

Skinner sighed. "All right. I’ll go home and catch a couple of hours sleep. His partner was here earlier and will probably be back, and I have to tell you that she isn’t pleased with the whole situation."

"Go home, Walter. I’ll watch over your Fox for you."

He hugged her. "Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you later."

After he had gone, Anne settled into the chair next to the bed after checking on her sleeping patient. Mulder lay resting quietly although every now and then he muttered and moved a little restlessly in his sleep. Gradually, his restlessness increased until she put her hand over his, stroking it gently.

"Hush, Fox," she said soothingly.

"Mom?" he whispered, half asleep.

She stroked his hair again. "It’s Anne, dear. Do you want your mother?"

He sighed, moving a little fitfully but not opening his eyes. "Doesn’t matter. She won’t come." He lay quiet again then, just when she thought he had gone back to sleep, she realized that the hazel eyes had opened and were studying her, puzzled. Identifying her, he relaxed. "Mrs. Skinner. Anne. When did you get here? Where’s Walter?"

"I sent him home to get some rest when I got here."

"Good. He looked wiped." Mulder’s eyes drifted closed again.

Anne settled back into her chair and watched the young man sleep, a slight frown on her face as she considered what Mulder's earlier words revealed about his family's dynamics. And she wondered what actions, if any, she should take.

 

* * *

Alex Krycek walked through the hospital corridor purposefully, and no one gave a second look to the well-dressed young man carrying a floral bouquet. Just a typical visitor on a typical day. But Alex Krycek was not a visitor; he was there on serious business. First, however, he needed to lose the flowers.

On a whim, he located Mulder’s room and cautiously peered in. An older woman, one he didn’t recognize, was sitting by the bed doing needlework. He decided to risk it. Tapping lightly on the door, he went in and the woman looked up with an inquiring smile.

"Hello. Are you here to see Fox? I’m afraid that he’s still out of it."

Fox? Aloud, he said, "That’s okay. I just wanted to bring these by and see how he was doing."

The woman rose and took the flowers. "They’re beautiful – I’m sure that he’ll appreciate them very much. I’m Anne Skinner, by the way."

Ah, the mother-in-law – so to speak. And on apparently friendly terms if she was calling him ‘Fox’. He wondered when that had happened. "Alex," he said with a nod. "Mulder and I used to work together." Enough of making nice, Alex, he told himself, and murmured a polite farewell as he backed out the door.

"I’ll tell Fox that you were asking about him."

Krycek smiled at the thought of Mulder’s reaction to that – not to mention Skinner. "Do that."

Then he was striding through the corridors towards his real destination, his movements deliberate but not hurried. Ah, just as he had thought – one uniformed policeman outside the hospital room. He approached the officer and pulled out the ID he had picked up from Skinner while checking his stab wound, wondering how long it would be before the owner discovered it was missing. "Walter Skinner to see the prisoner."

The officer looked at the ID and scanned down the list of people allowed access. He nodded. "Go ahead, sir."

Krycek smiled and went into the room. He stood for a moment at the end of the bed, surveying the man laying in the bed and checking to see whether the policeman was watching. Assured on the latter, he moved up to the head of the bed, keeping his back to the door so the officer couldn’t see his actions.

Jason Benett’s eyes opened as he became aware of a presence beside him, and he drew in a sharp breath. "Krycek."

Krycek smiled. "Hello, Jason. You know why I’m here."

Benett swallowed hard. "Yes."

"You really screwed up, didn’t you?" Krycek said, pulling out a hypo and preparing it.

Benett tried to pull away but he was in restraints in the bed. "Come on, Alex, give me a break. For old times sake – you remember what fun we had together, don’t you?"

"Oh, I remember, and I would except for two things. One, my patron would have me killed if I disobeyed him and I’m very fond of my life."

"And the second?"

Krycek looked down at Benett, and the man drew back in terror at the feral look in his eyes. "No one hurts _either_ of them and lives. No one but me." He viciously jabbed the needle into Benett’s arm and emptied it. "Nighty-night, Jason."

Benett opened his mouth to scream, yell for help, but Krycek was prepared for that. He clapped a hand over Benett’s mouth, stifling him, until Benett had dropped into unconsciousness. Krycek carefully disposed of the hypo, straightened the bed and his jacket. Then he left the room and the building.

 

* * *

Skinner entered his apartment building after paying off the cab, only two thoughts on his mind - sleep and Mulder. It took a couple minutes before he realized that the security man was calling his name.

"Yes?"

"Your car keys, sir. The man from the detailing company said he put the car in your usual parking place."

Skinner stared at the keys in his hand, his mind slightly befuddled with exhaustion, then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Trust Krycek to make a bold move, a grand gesture. He was only surprised that the man hadn't decided to drop the car at the FBI parking deck.

"Thanks."

He dragged himself upstairs and collapsed across the bed, still fully dressed. Within minutes he was asleep.

 

* * *

Scully walked slowly down the hospital corridor toward her partner’s room. Exhausted emotionally and physically, she had fallen asleep in the chapel for almost two hours. When she woke up, she felt a little better physically but not much clearer about her emotional state. What she needed to do was talk to Skinner, quietly and calmly.

Entering her partner’s room, she was surprised to see a strange woman sitting by Mulder’s bed, calmly working on needlepoint. The woman looked up and smiled at her, and Scully felt as if she should know this woman.

"You must be Dana Scully. Walter has talked about both you and Fox so much that I almost feel I know you."

Fox? She thought, stunned. "I’m sorry but – do I know you?"

"Anne Skinner," she said with a smile. "Walter’s mother."

"Walter’s – " Scully sat down weakly. "Oh. You – you know Mulder?"

Anne nodded. "We met at Christmas." She glanced back at the sleeping man, and Scully was startled to see affectionate amusement in the older woman’s face. "He’s a nice boy, but he does seem to get into an awful lot of trouble."

Scully’s mouth dropped open. Anne had said that just as if Mulder had been sent to the principal’s office instead of having been beaten half to death by a sadistic maniac. An involuntary laugh escaped from her, and she suddenly found that she was laughing and crying in a semi-hysterical manner. It was several long minutes before she was able to control her emotions.

"S-sorry."

"Don’t be," Anne said, handing her the box of tissues. "It sounded like you could really use that."

"Yes," Scully said, drying her eyes with a sigh. "I haven’t had much to laugh about today."

"I don’t expect that you have." She reached out to grasp Scully’s hand and said, gently, "He’s going to be all right. He’s tougher than he looks."

"Yes," Scully said with another sigh.

"Walter went home to get some rest – he looked worn out, poor boy. You look like you could use some rest, too."

"I didn't want to leave Mulder alone – he has a tendency for nightmares."

Anne nodded. "He had one at Christmas – I take it that holidays are difficult for him. And he got restless about an hour ago. I touched him and he settled down, thought I was his mother." She looked searchingly at Scully. "I asked if he wanted his mother and he said that it didn’t matter, she wouldn’t come."

Scully sighed. "I know. I called her to let her know that he was in the hospital and she politely thanked me and hung up. Although, considering the number of times he’s been in the hospital, it’s probably a non-event to her by now." Hesitantly, Scully added, "I doubt that she knows about – um – them."

"It’s not an easy thing to tell one’s family. Or one’s friends."

Scully looked up to find brown eyes studying her, sharp eyes that were very like her son’s. "You seem to be okay with this situation."

Anne smiled a little ruefully. "I’ve had twenty years to get used to Walter's preference but I expect that you’ve just recently learned about them. My son will tell you that his father and I were understanding, that we’ve always accepted him and been there for him." She sighed softly. "I’m afraid that’s not the total truth. When he first told us - when he came back from Viet Nam - I cried for hours. Not in front of him – and he never knew – but… a mother has dreams for her children, and hopes that they’ll be happy with a family of their own someday. Children. Grandchildren. Lifelong love. Things that are hard to find for a gay man, and even harder in his chosen profession. I’m embarrassed to say that I was relieved when he married Sharon, settled into a ‘normal’ relationship. And I’ll admit that I was worried when he told me that he was in love, and that the person he loved was a man. But then I met Fox, and I saw how happy the two of them are together, and I remembered how unhappy he was with Sharon. And somehow nothing else seems to matter but that happiness."

Scully shook her head. "If anyone finds out, it could be the end of their careers."

"They know that, and they are willing to take the risk." Anne's eyes were studying her again. "Fox thinks very highly of you. It will devastate him if you cannot accept them. How do you feel about this?"

Scully sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. I've been in the chapel for the last couple of hours trying to think. I - I need to talk to them both, I think. Find out where this is going." She met Anne Skinner's eyes directly. "Mulder's my best friend. I've got to be certain that he isn't going to be hurt."

Anne shook her head. "Everyone gets hurt, and you cannot stop it. But I think that a lifetime of love is worth a little pain."

Scully would have replied but a nurse entered the room. "Agent Scully? The prisoner you brought in - he's coding."

Swearing under her breath, Scully rushed down the hallway and entered Benett's room in time to hear, "That's it, folks. Record the time of death."

She grabbed the doctor's arm. "His injury wasn't that bad - how did he die?"

"Apparent heart attack," the doctor said with a sigh. "The autopsy will tell us more."

Scully stepped out to the policeman's station outside the room. "Did the patient have any visitors recently?"

The officer checked the list. "Just his doctors and A.D. Skinner."

Scully frowned. "When did A.D. Skinner visit him?"

"About an hour ago."

Impossible, she thought; Anne said he had gone home two hours ago. "A tall balding man with glasses? In his late forties?"

"No, ma'am. A younger man, with dark hair."

Scully swore under her breath. Krycek, she thought bitterly. She should have known - probably cleaning up his bosses' mess. And now they wouldn't be able to find out who was behind this attempt on Mulder - not that there was much doubt that it was Cancerman's doing. With slow steps, she walked down the hallway to Mulder's room and called Skinner. 

* * *

Skinner entered the hospital four hours after having left it, slightly refreshed by his nap but feeling as if he could have slept a lot longer. He met Scully outside Benett's room and felt slightly relieved when her eyes were able to meet his, even if they were a little cool.

"Agent Scully, what happened?"

"Someone impersonating you, sir, got to Benett and injected him with a chemical to simulate a heart attack. From the description, I'd say that it was Alex Krycek."

Skinner nodded and sighed. "Somehow I am not surprised."

"And yet you were willing to accept his help yesterday? I suppose that he's a member of that club, too, since he took Mulder there."

Skinner sighed. He really didn't want to get into that again. "That was different, Scully. His boss - an English gentleman that I think you've met - didn't want Mulder dead. And he _did_ help us find Mulder in time."

"Yes."

Scully was silent as they walked back down the hallway to Mulder's room. Anne Skinner took one look at their faces and then excused herself to go in search of coffee. Skinner braced himself for round two.

Scully walked to Mulder's bedside and looked down at her sleeping partner. "You love him," she said simply, stating a fact. "It's not just sex games, is it?"

Skinner stared at her, surprised by the softened tone of her voice. "Yes."

"And he loves you, too?"

"Yes."

"Why didn’t you _say_ something? If I had known how you felt – "

"You would have been a little more understanding? You wouldn’t have threatened to throw me out?" he asked, a little bitterly.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. "I didn't realize. It's going to take me a little while to get used to the idea."

Skinner's lips twitched a little. "You were the one who tried to set us up at Christmas."

"I thought you could be Mulder's _mentor_ , not his lover," she retorted, and then a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "I must have totally floored you when I asked you to invite Mulder for Christmas. How did you manage to keep a straight face, sir?"

Skinner gave in to a grin. "It wasn't easy."

"You were with him over Thanksgiving, too, weren't you?" Skinner nodded. "I've never seen him happier than he was that Monday after Thanksgiving, and when he saw that rose on his desk…the flowers were from you, too, weren't they?"

Skinner nodded again, and his eyes locked on Scully's. "I would never do anything to hurt him, Scully," he said quietly. "More than anything in this world, I want to make him happy, to make up for all the hell he has gone through in the past."

"Yesterday must have been hell for _you_."

Skinner smiled a little crookedly. "You could say that."

"What happened is going to be hard on your relationship, isn't it?"

Skinner looked bleak. "Depends on Mulder, and we know how good he is on snatching defeat from the jaws of victory."

Scully sighed. She found herself accepting the fact that Skinner was no physical threat to her partner. Was it up to her to decide if he was a moral threat? "All right. I’ll accept the concept that these S&M games you two play are consensual and that, because you do love him, you wouldn’t hurt him. What I don't understand is why Mulder needs these games. He seems to be a normal - well, fairly normal - heterosexual…" She stopped, realizing that she had thought the same of Skinner, and flushed, embarrassed.

Skinner smiled and she was amazed by that smile. "Don't ask, don't tell?" Then he sobered, frowning in thought. "It's hard to explain to someone who has never played the game. And it's different for different people. What he needed was to escape from himself."

"Excuse me, sir?"

Skinner sighed. "Imagine being locked inside that brain of his - alone, isolated, regarded by your peers as 'spooky'. Always having to be in control. He needs to let someone else be in control so that he doesn't have to be, so that he can stop thinking and just feel. So that he can forget the monsters – even for a little while."

He looked up to find Scully's eyes on his face, studying him intently. Normally he would have felt very uncomfortable at having revealed so much of himself but he was just too tired to care. He glanced over at Mulder's sleeping form, unaware that his face softened and that Scully had observed it.

"So Mulder escapes from himself. If you don't mind my asking, sir, what do you get out of it?"

"Fox Mulder." Skinner's mouth twisted in a wry smile. "You work with the man, Scully - haven't you noticed what a gift he is? He's beautiful and brilliant and funny and has this smile..." Her eyes were stung by the softness of his tone and she had to blink rapidly to keep the tears away. "So. Are you going to OPR about this, Agent Scully?"

She turned her eyes back to Mulder, saying softly, "He's been a different person these last few months. He's been truly happy for the first time since I’ve known him." Scully suddenly chuckled. "If you knew how hard I tried to find out about those damn flowers…"

"So now you know. We’re in your hands, Scully."

"Your secrets are safe with me," Scully said, then in a mock-serious voice added, "However, if you hurt him in any way, I promise I’ll come after you. And I’m armed and dangerous." Then, soberly, she added, "I would like to see this - whatever it is - work."

Eyes gleamed at her and a little smile tugged at his mouth. "We're not exactly picking out curtains and china yet, Scully," he said mildly.

Scully's mouth nearly dropped open. Who would have thought that Skinner would have a sense of humor?

Meanwhile, his flippant remark to Scully had made Skinner start thinking. Well, why not? He'd been thinking about buying a house - there was something satisfying about mundane household chores like mowing. Some place with enough room for his possessions. And Mulder's possessions. And Mulder. Some place to retreat from the rest of the world. He smiled a little, recalling his occasional thoughts that his very vocal lover was going to have the neighbors complaining then the smile faded a little. Deep down inside, he had a feeling that it would be a long time before that carefree and responsive lover was back in his bed.


	19. Recovering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder begins to deal with the aftermath of his abduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "You Must Love Me" from the "Evita" soundtrack by Andrew Lloyd Webber

_Where do we go from here?_ _  
This isn’t where we intended to be._ _  
We had it all – you believed in me,_ _  
I believed in you._ _  
Certainties disappear_ _  
What do we do for our dreams to survive?_ _  
How do we keep all our passions alive_ _  
As we used to do?_ _  
Deep in my heart I’m concealing_ _  
Things that I’m longing to say_ _  
Scared to confess what I’m feeling_ _  
Frightened you’ll slip away._  
_You must love me._

 

Mulder surfaced from a warm, dark world where he felt safe and loved to a world of too-bright light and unbearable pain, pain so great that he nearly retreated back into the dark. Only one thing, a familiar voice, kept him from diving down into that darkness and never coming out again.

"Scully?"

The sound of heels on linoleum, the feel of a cool hand on his forehead, and a gentle voice near his ear. "Hi, partner. Welcome back."

He blinked his eyes open and found that he was lying on his stomach in a hospital bed. "Shit. I hate hospitals."

That low laugh that only Scully could produce, and she settled into a chair by the head of his bed. "Well, you sound a little more like yourself."

"Do I?" Mulder blinked, frowning, and tried to remember.

"Yeah. Last time you were awake you told me to shut up."

Memory trickled back in, and Mulder lifted his head to glance around the room. "So what _did_ you do with the bodies?"

"If I told you, that would make you an accessory after the fact."

"We'll go on the lam, a sort of variation on 'Thelma and Louise'. If Terence Stamp can do drag, so can I."

That soft laugh again. "Okay, but I get to choose whether I'm Thelma or Louise." Her hand came up to brush his forehead again, and her expression became serious. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone beat the crap out of me," he said, trying for lightness but there was an underlying catch to his voice. "They must have turned off the good stuff."

Scully swallowed against the pain in her throat. "The doctor wanted to ease off on the medication. If the pain is too bad, they can give you something for it. Do you want me to call the nurse?"

"Not yet." Mulder took a deep breath. "So. How bad's the damage?"

Scully hesitated, but she knew that Mulder would want her to be honest. In her best pathologist's voice she said, "Deep bruises from your shoulders down to your knees. Lacerations on your upper back that broke the surface. Some internal bruising and they're a little worried about your kidneys."

"And - Benett?"

"Dead." At the surprised look on Mulder's face, she added, "Apparent heart attack, but we think that Krycek got to him." To her surprise, Mulder chuckled softly. "What?"

"Ironic, that's all."

"I gathered from something he said to Skinner that Krycek used to...play with Benett." She hesitated. "Mulder, why didn't you tell me that it was Skinner you were seeing at that Club?"

"And have you go to OPR? Not likely." He looked over at her. "I missed the end of that conversation - what _did_ you decide to do?" A little coldness crept into his voice, and she had the feeling that he was wondering if that was why she was the only one in his room.

"I decided that it was none of OPR's business, as long as you both were happy. He's home, getting some sleep, by the way. He and Anne have been by your side off and on for the past day and a half."

A smile curved his lips. "I thought I remembered Anne being here. She's a great lady."

"I liked her, too." Lightly, she added, "So you've gotten in good with the in-laws already."

A humorous lift of his eyebrows. "Always a good plan, don't you think? My hope is that, if Walter and I break up, she'll dump him and adopt me."

"Gold-digger."

"Hey, a man's got to think about his future and I'm not getting any younger."

Scully grinned, quoting one of his favorite movies, "It's not the years, it's the mileage."

"Yeah, well I think this body is about due for a trade-in," he laughed. He shifted slightly, forgetting his back for a moment, and was abruptly reminded as a wave of unbearable pain washed over him. "Scully - "

Her hand was already on the call-button. "Hang on, Mulder. I'm getting you something for the pain."

"Can't - " The darkness swallowed him up again.

* * *

The next time he awoke it was dark outside, and the pain in his back seemed to have been reduced to a thrumming ache. The sound of pages turning alerted him to another presence in the room, and he turned his head to see Skinner sitting in the bedside chair. His head was bent, he was frowning over a report that he was reading, and the image was so familiar that Mulder felt emotion choke his throat. Sap, he thought to himself a little derisively.

Skinner looked up and caught Mulder's eyes on him, and a soft smile crossed his face. "Hi, tough guy. How are you feeling?"

"I'll live. Right now I'm just not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." He ran a tongue over his lips. "Thirsty."

Skinner picked up a cup and adjusted the straw so that Mulder could drink from it. Once Mulder was satisfied, Skinner dampened a washcloth and ran it over Mulder's face.

Mulder sighed. "That feels good."

"Scully says that you were awake for a little while earlier."

"Yeah." Mulder studied his lover's face. "So - you two bury the hatchet for now?"

Skinner smiled. "Actually - once she got over the initial shock - Scully's been pretty decent about the whole thing. I have a feeling that she and Mom talked - they're off getting something to eat right now. I wonder if I should be worried about that - those two will have us married and living in a little house in the suburbs before we know what has hit us."

"Yeah."

Mulder face abruptly became shuttered and Skinner could have kicked himself. It had just been a joke, but it had obviously hit Mulder wrong and he didn’t know why. And this wasn't the time or the place to discuss long-term plans.

"Sean was by earlier. He'd like to come back when you're up for visitors."

"I'd like that."

Mulder noticed that Skinner didn't pursue the subject of a long-term future and closed his eyes to hide the sudden desolation he felt. Now that Benett was gone, there was no need for Skinner to keep protecting him at the Club. He remembered that Skinner had said that he had left the Club, that he had only come back and had only agreed to take Mulder on to keep him safe from Benett and Cancerman. Now that need was gone. And the relationship they had started outside the Club - it was dangerous, and would be doubly so now that the smoking bastard had been thwarted in his plans. It only made sense to end both relationships. Right now, though, Mulder didn't feel like being sensible. He felt like begging Skinner to keep him, pleading with him to let them continue as they had been. He bit his lip to keep the words from spilling out of him, and a single tear ran down his cheek.

"Fox?"

Resolutely, he kept his eyes closed, ignoring that soft voice instead of wrapping himself up in it. If it was over, he had better learn how to stand on his own. 

* * *

Scully looked surprised when Mason came into the small break room down the hall from Mulder's room, and he smiled slightly. "Sean is in the lab for his regular check-up and he hates me to hover, so I thought I'd pop up and find out how Mulder's doing. He was asleep, so I decide to look for you. How are you doing?"

Scully looked surprised. "Me? I'm not the one in the hospital."

"No, but something like this happening to someone you care about can be tough to deal with. I know from personal experience." Mason was looking at her with those sharp eyes. "And on top of that you've had a big shock. You need someone to talk to about this."

Scully studied him coolly. "Why you? I hardly even know you."

"Who else are you going to talk to? Walter? Mulder? They're part of the problem. Your family? I doubt that they'd understand." Mason smiled, and she realized that he had a nice smile. "I'm a good listener, Special Agent Dana Scully."

Scully smiled ruefully. "Are you always this persuasive?"

He laughed softly. "You have no idea." He stood up. "Let's go have lunch and you can unburden your soul. My treat."

Scully stood up and picked up her coat. 

* * *

Mulder opened his eyes and realized that something was different. It was daylight again, and he was lying on his back. He wondered how long he had slept this time and turned his head, looking for Scully or Skinner or Skinner's mother. Instead, he saw Sean sitting in a chair by the bed.

"Hi," he said in surprise.

"Hey, boy-o. Thought you were going to sleep the day away. How are you feeling, mate?"

Mulder tried to push himself up, wincing. "I've felt better."

Sean helped place the pillows so he could sit up. "Know what you mean. Wait till they start healing and itching - then you'll know you’re in hell."

"You get beaten this badly often?" Mulder asked sarcastically. Then, as Sean turned his face away, he said, "Christ - I'm sorry - it's none of my business."

Sean took a deep breath and turned back, pulling the chair closer to the bed. "I've got a story to tell you, Mulder."

"Another fairy tale?"

"No. A true story, and not a particularly pretty one. I told you before that I've done just about everything, good and bad. Before I belonged to Geoff, I used to play around. Most of the time with tops at the Club, safe tops. And then I did something really stupid - got involved with an outsider who was into heavy SM with no safe words. The first two times were exciting, dangerous - I got hooked. Then, the last time, he beat me so hard I nearly died, raped me, the works. I would have died if I hadn't set up a check-in buddy. When I didn't call on schedule, he called the police.

"When I got out of the hospital, I pulled myself together. I thought I was 'dealing' with it, going on with my life. Then the tests came back at my six-month check-up. HIV Positive."

"Jesus, Sean," Mulder breathed.

Sean gave him a twisted smile. "I tried to kill myself with a pill overdose. I was just lucky that I did it at the Club. Geoff found me and took care of me. I still don't know why - we hadn't played together. I wouldn't even let him touch me for weeks. He didn't care, he was just there. He found a counselor for me to talk to, made sure that I was taking my meds, getting my T cell count healthy. And when I was ready, he made love to me so sweetly…It took a long time but I got over it with his help. He's been there for me every day, good or bad."

"You're very lucky," Mulder said softly. He remembered the incident when he had "belonged" to Mason for a day, how Sean had been sick and, afterward, how Mason had sat drinking in the living room. He remembered Mason's words, and now he understood the meaning underneath them.

"So are you." Sean looked up and, irrepressible as always, grinned at him. "You should have seen the Mountain when you were missing - he had Geoff and those butch security guys jumping through hoops like subs!"

Mulder chuckled weakly. "That's my Walter."

"Yes. * _Your_ * Walter." Sean's eyes pinned him. "Possession is a two-way street. He's hurting, too. Don't shut him out."

Mulder closed his eyes. "He did it to keep me out of trouble, to keep me away from Benett. He doesn't have to anymore."

Sean snorted. "If you think that's the only reason he topped you, then you are blind, boy-o. He's in love with you, plain as the nose on your face. You know it, too. And you love him."

Mulder plucked at the blanket. "It's not that easy."

"Shit, Mulder. Finding someone to love that loves you back is the hard part. Everything else is easy." Mulder didn't say anything and Sean sighed. "Look, I want you to talk to my shrink." As Mulder started to protest, he said, "She's cool. She understands about the lifestyle and counsels other gays. She's seen it all and she can really help."

"Sean…"

"Just talk to her one time, okay? See what you think of her. She helped me a lot, and I think she can help you through this."

Mulder sighed and agreed, reluctantly. 

* * *

"Maybe you can explain this to me," Scully said after the waitress had brought their drinks. "I suppose I can understand why Mulder does this - releasing control to another person. But why do you do this? Why does Skinner do this? What on earth do you get back out of all that time and energy you put into these games? Is it a power trip?"

Mason smiled. "Life is a power trip. We spend most of our lives struggling for power, trying to empower ourselves and to protect ourselves from being overpowered by others. What we do is play power games for fun instead of profit."

"But can't this desire for power be destructive?"

"Of course. Most people picture a SM top as an amoral, irresponsible and destructive person - like Benett. And there is that potential - playing with power can be like playing with fire. But there is also the enormous potential to heal, to provide a special kind of warmth against the empty darkness in most of our lives. An ethical top - like Walter and myself - understands the use of power and wields it responsibly and safely."

"Safe, sane and consensual? I've heard that before. It wasn't very safe or sane and it certainly wasn't consensual for Mulder."

Mason sighed. "Agent Scully - "

"Dana." When he raised an eyebrow at her, she smiled wryly. "It feels - too strange to use my title when we're talking about this subject."

"All right, Dana. And please call me Geoff. As I was saying, Jason Benett wasn't an ethical top, and he wasn't playing games. He was trying to break Mr. Mulder, trying to get power over him, to destroy Mulder's sense of identity. Consensual SM involves a power exchange, a _sharing_ of power, not taking away of power. The bottom gives his or her power to the top while they're playing. The top adds his own power and then wields the combined energy in a way that is exciting, hot, and very, very sexy."

"So it's all about sex?"

Mason laughed. "Isn't _life_ about sex? Pursuing it, obtaining it, retaining it. We spend more of our energy in pursuit of sex than anything else, and we have more anxieties about sex than anything else, and we repress more 'forbidden' feelings about sex than anything else. All that energy wasted when it can be channeled and released in a way that heals and revitalizes us. Both of us - tops and bottoms."

"And that's what's in it for you?"

"Among other things." Mason smiled. "It isn't just about sex or power. When a top and bottom really connect, there's a kind of empathy that's so profound that it's almost telepathic. We almost experience what the bottoms experience, we 'surf' the bottom's sensations. And when two players really mesh - like me and Sean, or Walter and Mulder - the relationship can be deeper and more profound than any vanilla relationship could ever hope to be."

Their food arrived and Scully toyed with it for a few minutes, thinking. "Have you and Sean been together long?"

"Two years. He went through something similar to what Mulder's just gone through and I helped him get over it."

"So Benett's not just an isolated case." Then she frowned, remembering. "You said he was in the lab for a checkup. Is your - um - is Sean all right?"

Mason met her eyes evenly. "Sean is HIV positive."

Scully drew in a sharp breath. "I'm sorry. He seems so - vibrant and alive."

"He is. He was diagnosed two years ago, his T-cell count is good, and so far there haven't been any major complications. God willing, he has years ahead of him." Mason drew a deep breath and smiled, a little unevenly. "But that's not what you wanted to talk about. Dana, you are looking for a simple, single answer and I have none to give you. This game is too complicated for pat answers, and it is different for everyone who plays." He pulled out a business card and held it out to her. "Think about what I've said. And if you still have questions, or want to talk for any reason, bring this with you to the Club and the doorman will see that you are escorted to my office."

Scully slowly took the card and looked at it before putting it in her purse. "Thank you. I will."

* * *

Mulder lay in bed for awhile after Sean left, thinking. And no matter how he looked at the situation, it always came down to one thing: Walter Skinner would be better off without the additional complication of Fox Mulder in his life. No matter how much he loved Walter - ruthlessly, he pushed that thought away. His feelings for Walter could only bring the man trouble. Cancerman would see to that now that his little plot had been foiled. The bastard would want his revenge, and he would have the perfect ammunition in an illicit romance between an assistant director and his male subordinate. Disgrace. Humiliation. Embarrassment. Their names and their little hobby dragged through the papers - no, maybe the Club would remain a secret with so many influential people members of it, but there would be a price for that silence. They would be forced to resign from the Bureau.

He wasn't so concerned for himself - he was used to unflattering comments behind his back, accustomed to being shunned and laughed at, but Skinner wasn't. The man had always been an insider, a player. At his age and with this scandal in his past, what kind of future would Skinner have? The picture of Walter Skinner as a humble security guard or night watchman haunted him. Mulder's own inheritances from his grandparents and his father were enough to provide him with a comfortable income for life, but he couldn't imagine Skinner allowing himself to be kept by his lover. Skinner would end up resenting Mulder for the whole mess - and rightly so - and their love would turn to bitterness and hatred, ripping each other to bits in their dark agony. Better to end this now while they had good memories instead of destroying each other and their past.

Resolutely, he wrote a note to Skinner and put it in an envelope along with the key to his apartment. Then, finally, he unfastened the bracelet around his wrist. He stared at it for a long moment, memories of good times at the Club making him smile wistfully, and then he slipped it into the envelope and sealed it.

Mulder got out of bed and located his clothes, dressed rapidly, and headed for the refuge of his apartment. 

* * *

Skinner walked briskly down the hospital corridor. He was tired, physically and emotionally drained from a long week. He had spent his days keeping up a calm exterior at work while his lover lay in a hospital bed across town, spent his evenings sitting next to that hospital bed while Mulder silently struggled with whatever demons were haunting him, and spent his nights lying in a solitary bed trying to sleep while nightmare visions spun before his eyes.

Skinner had just put his mother on the plane home now that Mulder was out of danger and he was looking forward to the weekend. And with Mulder on the road to recovery, perhaps he could convince the doctors to cut him loose and could convince Mulder to continue his recovery at Skinner's apartment. Once there, away from interruptions and visitors and prying eyes, they could finally talk and he could find out just what was going on behind those sad hazel eyes.

He entered Mulder's room and found it empty of his presence. An envelope with his name on it lay on the bed, and he picked it up with hands that suddenly shook. Taking a deep breath, he opened it and pulled out a single sheet. A key fell out with it, and a gold bracelet.

 

_Walter,_

_So where do we go from here? This isn't easy to say, but it has to be said, so I guess I'll say it. The danger from Benett is over, and Cancerman will be looking for new ways to control us. Our relationship would be just too tempting a target. I don't mind what they'd say about me so much - they've said worse - but you're a good man and I won't see your life destroyed. We've had good times together, and it's better to stop now before we lose even that. So please, Walter, just let me go. We'll always have our memories. I love you._

_Fox_

 

Skinner sat on the bed, stunned, reading the short paragraph again.

"Mulder - " Scully entered the room in a good mood after her lunch with Mason but stopped short when she saw Skinner sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a piece of paper in his hand. He looked up at her, and the devastation in his face was so great that she suddenly found she couldn't breathe. "Sir? Is something wrong? Is Mulder-"

"Gone." Skinner was surprised at how even his voice was, surprised that he could even speak over the tightness in his throat. He held out the letter to her and she grabbed it, quickly reading it and then handing it back.

"What are you going to do?" she asked quietly.

"I - " Skinner tried to think but his brain was too tired, his nerves raw from the strain of the past week. He couldn't think, couldn't formulate any plans.

Scully frowned. "You're not just going to let him walk away, are you?"

Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "What can I do? Go after him and drag him back? What good will that do?"

Scully glared at Skinner. "Men! You are so dense - answer one question. Do you still love him and want him?"

He frowned at her, stung to anger by her tone. "Of course I do."

"Then go home and get ready for a visitor," she said tightly, heading towards the door.

"Where are you going, Agent Scully?" he asked, bewildered.

She turned back and he was startled by the fury on her face. "I'm going to go kick a little Mulder ass!" And then the only sound was the sharp clicking of angry heels moving down the hospital corridor.


	20. Returning Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MMulder returns home to finish recuperating, and he and Skinner face the changes in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "To Make You Feel My Love" by Bob Dylan.

_When the rain is blowing in your face_ _  
And the whole world is on your case_ _  
I could offer you a warm embrace_ _  
To make you feel my love_ _  
When evening shadows and the stars appear_ _  
And there is no one there to dry your tears_  
_I could hold you for a million years_ _  
To make you feel my love_ _  
I know you haven't made your mind up yet_ _  
But I would never do you wrong_  
_I've known it from the moment that we met_   
_No doubt in my mind where you belong_

Mulder lay on his couch, staring up at the ceiling, feeling empty and lost. _Come on, Mulder_ , he told himself derisively, _it’s only been six months. How can you have gotten so wrapped up in one person in just six months?_ But it didn’t matter how it had happened – it just had. Slowly, gradually, something that had started out as a game had become the single most important relationship that he had ever known, and now that it was over there was nothing to replace it.

The intensity of his need, both the physical and emotional craving for his lover, made him feel like a drug addict in withdrawal. His lips twisted wryly - he _was_ addicted. He was hooked on the certainty that there was at least one person in his miserable fucked-up life other than Scully who cared about him, someone else who actually cared if he kept breathing for another day, someone else who would actually mourn if he kicked it. Somehow, incredibly, over the last six months he had come to accept the fact that Walter Skinner _did_ care that he was alive - whether he deserved that caring or not - and not just because he was a great bed partner. He remembered when he had realized it over the Thanksgiving weekend, the sheer exhilaration and stark terror that had filled him, and how Skinner had understood, how he had silently pulled Mulder into his arms and just held him while the tremors shook the younger man's body. Now there was just an empty hole in his heart that had once been filled by Walter’s love and a deep ache that he felt with every breath. The days and weeks stretched endlessly ahead of him, and there was nothing to fill the loneliness.

He lay on the couch for hours, knowing he should eat something, should take something to ease the pounding in his head, but he was unable to feel any enthusiasm for either task. He wondered, idly, if someone would find his lifeless body still lying here when someone finally missed him and began the search. And how pathetic is that? he thought derisively to himself, lying here and wallowing in self-pity.

There was a loud pounding on his door and, for a moment, hope ignited in his heart and his pulse began to race. _Walter_ , he thought, a sudden burst of energy making him sit up. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Mulder, and you had better let me in."

Scully, he thought as his hopes plummeted. He collapsed back on the couch and covered his eyes with his arm. "Go away, Scully. I'm not in the mood for company."

There was a rattle at the door and he swore silently as he realized that Scully was using her key. The door swung violently open, slamming against the wall, and a furious redhead stormed into his apartment.

"Just what in the hell do you think you are doing? First you leave the hospital _without_ being released by your doctor, and this just days after you sustained a severe beating. Are you completely crazy? Or are you suicidal?"

"I don't know, Scully," Mulder said listlessly, not moving his arm from where it covered his face. "You tell me."

"Then you turn your back on the one man who has stood by your side - has risked everything for you - without the courtesy of telling him face to face why you're blowing him off!"

Mulder sat up abruptly, wincing at the pain this caused in his back. "He knows why - "

"Oh, come on, Mulder! I read the note you left and it was pretty pathetic. That scene may have worked in 'Casablanca' but you don't pull off noble suffering nearly as well as Bogart." She stomped into his bedroom and emerged with his suitcase.

"Am I going somewhere, Scully?"

"Yes. I'm taking you over to Skinner's apartment and you're going to talk to him. You're going to apologize for treating him this way - I'd advise a little groveling - and then you're going to discuss your future like a reasonably intelligent human being. If you're very lucky, and if he's even half as crazy about you as I think he is, then he'll forgive you for tearing out his heart and stomping on it, and you can spend the next week being coddled and cosseted at his place while you finish recovering. Otherwise, I'm taking you back to the hospital and putting you under 24-hour guard."

"And what makes you think that I'm going to go with you?"

"Because if you don't get your ass off that couch and out the door in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to put a bullet in your _other_ shoulder. And you know that I can and will do it."

Mulder sighed. "Scully - "

"The clock is ticking, Mulder."

Mulder gave up the fight and stood up, heading towards the door. "All right, all right. I'm going."

They sat in silence in the car on the way over to Crystal City, Mulder staring out the window and trying to keep his stomach from heaving at the thought of the upcoming discussion. Shit, he thought despairingly, there was no way that Walter was just going to let him walk away. It was going to be ugly - they were going to argue, they would say things to hurt each other, and the lovely, fragile fantasy that they had built together would explode in flames.

"You know, Mulder," Scully said, breaking the silence. "I've seen you stand up against shape shifters, mutants, government conspirators. I've seen you risk your life for what you believed in, for those that you cared about, for me. But I've never thought you were a coward before now."

"A coward?"

"Yes, Mulder. If you won't face him - if you're just going to stick your head in the sand and pretend nothing happened, then you're a coward."

"Scully, you don’t understand…"

"What? That the smoking man will try to use this relationship against you? Mulder, he's been doing that to you for _years_ with our friendship - are you just going to stop caring about _anyone_ to protect yourself from pain? And if you stop caring about anyone, even about yourself, you'll become just as pathetic and lonely as that bastard is. You will become him, Mulder. Is that what you want?"

Mulder remembered finding Cancerman, sitting alone in his darkened room watching television, and thought how easily that could be himself. He shuddered, and Scully saw that with satisfaction.

"The only thing that matters is that we refuse to stop caring, that we refuse to let these bastards control our lives," Scully said quietly. "We have to take what happiness we can and hold onto it for however long we can, otherwise we're just their puppets."

They were silent on the elevator ride up. Standing outside Skinner's door he felt an overwhelming sense of panic but a surprisingly strong hand gripped his arm and kept him from bolting. The door swing open at Scully's first buzz as if Skinner had been waiting on the other side and, judging from his appearance, Mulder rather thought that he had.

"Hello, sir," Scully said cheerfully. "I believe I have something that belongs to you." She handed Skinner the suitcase and pushed Mulder into the apartment with a strong hand in the middle of his back. _Damn, she's strong,_ he thought, _Dana, Warrior Princess._

"Thanks," Skinner said, feeling like an idiot at being unable to come up with anything better but his brain seemed to have short-circuited at the sight of his errant lover. "Um - would you like a drink, Scully?"

"No, thank you, sir. I've got a date tonight and I've got to get going. Besides," and she gave them both a meaningful glare, "you have some talking to do. Good night, sir, Mulder."

"'Night, Scully." Skinner closed the door behind Scully and turned to study Mulder. The man stood in the middle of the front hall, head down, hands jammed into his pockets, face totally closed. Skinner sighed inwardly - he had seen this look before, and Mulder-the-martyr was almost as annoying to deal with as Mulder-the-smart-ass. He decided that the best defense was a good offense and simply pulled the younger man into his arms, holding him tight and murmuring, "God, Fox, I missed you so much. I was afraid that I was never going to see you again."

Mulder couldn't stop the sob that emerged from him but he fought valiantly to repress the rest of the tears. Then Skinner was kissing his neck and stroking his hair, murmuring soft words to him, and Mulder couldn't keep them back anymore. His stiff body melted against Skinner’s, his arms went around the other man, and he was clinging to Skinner desperately.

"Walter, you don’t understand," he said, his muffled voice full of agony as he buried his face against Skinner’s shoulder. "You know that bastard will use this against us. Your career will be ruined – "

"The hell with my career," Skinner said roughly. "You are much more important to me."

"You say that now but when you’re a night watchman at some broken-down factory you’ll begin to resent me and then hate me and we’ll have fights – "

Skinner began laughing softly. "Is that why you broke up with me?" Mulder nodded. "Idiot," Skinner said affectionately. "You’re agonizing over something that hasn’t happened, that may never happen. And why in hell would I become a night watchman?"

Mulder shrugged, still not lifting his head from Skinner's shoulder. "At your age and with the Bureau scandal – "

"At my – Fox, how old do you think I am? I’m only in my forties and I’m constantly being offered consultant work in the private sector. I’ll manage just fine. And you’re worrying over something that may never happen. We’ve got enough problems without you inventing trouble." He squeezed Mulder gently, being cautious of Mulder’s injuries. "I love you, Fox. I want to be with you. And I’m willing to risk everything for this relationship."

"Now who’s the idiot," Mulder said with a sigh, but he tightened his hold on Skinner.

Skinner pulled back slightly so he could look into Mulder’s face and he smiled at what he saw. Mulder was still troubled but appeared resigned to the fact that Skinner wasn’t going to let him go that easily. There were still a lot of things that they would have to talk about, but that could wait till later. He leaned forward to brush his lips over Mulder’s and murmured, "Have you eaten yet?"

Mulder chuckled weakly. "I should have known. No, I haven't."

"I've got steaks." He squeezed Mulder once and released him, heading toward the kitchen.

"What is this compulsion you have with food?" Mulder followed him, leaning against the counter as he watched Skinner pull food out of the refrigerator.

"Can I help it if food is one of my two favorite things?"

"What's the other?"

Skinner turned and grinned at Mulder. "Sex."

Mulder laughed, a little weakly, then sighed. "About that. I don't think - I'm not ready - "

Skinner crossed back over to Mulder and gently touched his face. "I know. We’ll talk about that later, okay? And I’m here whenever you're ready, Fox. It's up to you. Just - don't shut me out completely, okay?"

"Okay." Mulder's voice was tight. He blinked to keep back tears.

Skinner kissed him again, gently. "Go on in the living room and take it easy while I finish dinner."

Mulder nodded and started to leave the room, then turned back and said, diffidently, "You know I love you, don’t you?"

A grin broke out on Skinner’s face. "Yeah, I think I somehow got that impression."

Mulder nodded again. "Good." He disappeared into the living room, and Skinner turned back to his cooking with a light heart. It wasn’t perfect, Mulder still had a lot of healing to do, but it was a start. And he felt a hell of a lot better than he had an hour ago. 

* * *

A while later, Mulder lay on the floor in front of the fireplace half-dozing. His stomach was pleasantly full and his mind disengaged. In the background he could hear Skinner washing the dishes, and all in all he was at peace.

His jacket chirped and he sat up with a groan to pull out his phone.

"Hello?"

"Mulder, it's me."

He flopped back down on his stomach. "Hey, Scully. What's up?"

"I was just checking to see if you were all right."

"I may die from high cholesterol, but other than that I'm okay."

"Skinner cooks? I'm impressed."

"The man is obsessed with my stomach, Scully. He says 'have you eaten' the way most people say 'hello'."

A chuckle on the other end of the phone. "I doubt it's your stomach he's obsessed with," she said dryly. "I think it's your ass."

"Why, Dana Scully!" he said in mock severity. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" She laughed again. "I hear noise in the background - the new boyfriend there?"

"Mmmhmm. He's cooking _me_ dinner."

"Now _I'm_ impressed. If he's good in bed he sounds like a keeper to me, Scully."

"Mulder, are you channeling my mother?"

Dryly, he said, "Scully, if I was channeling your mother, I would hardly mention bed. Although I should probably channel Bill and question the boyfriend about his intentions."

"Carnal. Definitely carnal." They both laughed, feeling more at ease with each other than they had in days. "Mulder, I meant what I said earlier."

"I know, I know - for Christ's sake, Scully, stop pushing!" he said irritably. Skinner came into the room and they exchanged a look, then Skinner went to his desk and settled down with some papers from the office.

"Sorry, Mulder," she said softly, on the other end of the phone. "It's just that I care about you."

"I know." He drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Guess I'm a little sensitive."

Scully hesitated, then said, "Mulder, if you aren't doing anything Sunday afternoon, would you like to catch a movie? My treat."

"Sunday afternoon?" He glanced over at Skinner. "Sounds good. But I warn you - if you drag me to one of those dollar shows again, I'll expect popcorn, too. I'm easy but I'm not cheap."

Skinner snorted at the desk, and Mulder grinned.

"Yeah, right, tell me another one," Scully said. "You're incredibly cheap."

"Oooh, Scully, you know me so well. What're you wearing?"

She snorted. "Save it for Skinner, partner."

He fell over laughing, and Skinner looked at him in mock exasperation.

"Got to go. Peter says dinner's ready. Pick you up from Skinner’s place at 3?"

"Sounds good. Bye. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Dryly, she said, "Mulder, that doesn't exclude much of anything. 'Night."

Grinning, he hung up and put the phone back in his jacket pocket. It felt good to be on friendly terms with his partner again. He looked around for Skinner and saw that he had finished at the desk and had moved to the couch. Skinner turned on the TV and chose a mystery movie. Mulder watched the movie quietly for a few minutes, figured out who the murderer was, and glanced up at Skinner.

"Scully asked me to go to a movie with her Sunday afternoon." His voice was uncertain, unsure of where they stood.

"Sounds like fun. You should go." The voice was amused. Mulder drew a breath and sat up.

"Yeah. It does." He leaned his back against the couch, next to Skinner's legs, and felt a gentle hand touch his head as Skinner absently stroked his hair. He leaned his head against Skinner's legs, feeling safe and secure, and his eyes drifted shut.

The next thing he knew, Skinner was gently shaking his shoulder. "Time for bed, Fox."

Mulder sat up abruptly, his heart racing. Skinner had promised - had said it would be his choice - Then he saw that Skinner was spreading out blankets and pillows on the couch and he had to swallow tears. How could he ever doubt Walter?

Skinner gave him a hand up from the floor. "You're too tired to drive home tonight."

Mulder smiled, a sweet smile that made Skinner want to crush him to his chest and devour him with kisses, and there was mischief in those hazel eyes. "I couldn't, anyway. You and Scully kidnapped me, remember?"

"So we did." Skinner handed him the TV remote with a smile. "Sleep well, Mulder."

"What, no good-night kiss?"

Skinner reached out and caressed Mulder's face. "Cheeky bastard." He leaned over and kissed Mulder gently. "Good night."

Mulder tilted his head, smiling beguilingly. "You can do better than that."

"Yes," Skinner said softly, "but then you won't be sleeping on this couch. And I don't think you're ready for that."

Mulder smiled ruefully. "No. I'm not." He sighed. "Good night."

Skinner turned and walked down the hallway to his bedroom, hearing the TV channels changing behind him. Then he undressed and climbed into his solitary bed.

* * *

Skinner was awakened by a scream. He sat bolt upright, his heart racing, and heard it again. Mulder. He nearly ran down the hallway. In the light cast by the TV, he could see Mulder thrashing on the couch, whimpering and crying in a way that tore his heart. He knelt by the side of the couch, firmly gripping Mulder by the arms.

"Mulder! Mulder, wake up!"

"No! Please, don't!" Mulder fought against him, desperate.

"Fox, it's Walter. Wake up!"

"W-Walter?" Mulder stopped struggling and blinked his eyes open. Relief flooded his face and he laid his forehead on Skinner's shoulder, shaking like a leaf. Skinner shifted to sit on the side of the couch, pulling Mulder tightly against him.

"It's all right, Mulder. I'm here. You're all right." Mulder nodded, still too shaken to speak, and buried his face against Skinner's neck. Skinner soothingly stroked his back, silently letting Mulder pull himself back together again. Finally, with a sigh, Mulder stopped shaking and lay limp, exhausted.

"Okay now?" Mulder nodded. "Need anything? Warm milk? Water?" Mulder shook his head. "Think you can go back to sleep?" Mulder shrugged and Skinner eased him back down on the couch. As he started to stand, Mulder clutched his T-shirt, eyes wide with fright. Skinner sighed, then tugged Mulder up. "Come on." He led him down the hallway and pushed him gently toward the bed. Mulder glanced at him, wide-eyed, and Skinner said with a half-smile, "Don't worry, your virtue's safe with me. For tonight, anyway."

Mulder smiled back, tentatively, and crawled into bed. Skinner went back down the hallway to turn off the TV and shut off the lights. When he returned to the bedroom, Mulder was curled up on his side, facing away from him. He sighed again and climbed into bed, turned off the light, and lay down, staring up at the ceiling.

"Walter?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

"What are friends for? Good night, Mulder."

Mulder rolled over, snuggling against him for warmth and comfort, and fell asleep. Skinner shifted his arm so that Mulder lay pillowed on his chest, breathing in the scent that was Mulder, and smiled. It wasn't everything, but it was enough for now. He was a patient man. He could wait. 

* * *

Mulder was in a bad mood the next morning when Skinner woke up. Sometime in the early morning he had retreated back to the couch and lay there, changing channels faster than he could possible see them. Skinner surveyed the situation with silent amusement and went into the kitchen to make coffee and start breakfast.

He returned to the living room with a cup of coffee and set it down next to Mulder. "Stop abusing that poor remote for a minute and drink this."

"Don't want any coffee," Mulder muttered sulkily.

Skinner smiled to himself and returned to the kitchen. He knew one or two things about Fox Mulder, including the way through that stubbornness. He began mixing up pancake batter.

Mulder lay on the couch, scowling. He had awakened in the early morning in the arms of the man he loved and a panic attack more severe than any he had ever felt before swept over him. He had bit his hand to stifle a scream, aghast at the fear that tore through his stomach, and edged himself out of bed. Skinner didn't move, and he had crept down the hallway to the guest bathroom where he became violently ill. Shaking, fighting dry heaves, he had pulled himself up to the sink and washed his face, rinsed out his mouth. Then he had headed for the safe cocoon Skinner had made for him on the couch, retreating under the covers like a frightened animal in its burrow.

Now he could hear Skinner moving around in the kitchen making comfortable, familiar, safe noises. The smell of coffee was irresistible, and he put down the remote with a sigh and reached for the coffee mug. Part of him, the free-spirit Mulder, resented Skinner's high-handedness and wanted to rebel against it, wanted to push him to find out what it would take to make Skinner leave like all the others. But part of him thirsted for this coddling like a plant for rain, and reveled in the comfort of Skinner's care, the surety of his love, the strength that would allow him to be weak.

Skinner returned to the living room with a glass of juice, smiling at the sight his lover presented. He was sitting curled in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, his hair tousled like a little boy's, an expression on his face that was half-rebellious. He set the juice down without comment and turned to look at the TV.

"Have they shown the scores from last night's game yet?"

Mulder shook his head and changed to a sports station, absently picking up the juice glass as they watched the recap of the basketball game.

"Doesn't look like we missed much," Skinner commented and went back into the kitchen to start the pancakes.

Mulder sat for a moment, then pushed back the covers and took his coffee mug into the kitchen for a refill. He sniffed the air appreciatively. "Pancakes?"

"Your choice of syrup."

Another memory surged up in Mulder's mind but he pushed it down and shrugged. "I'm not particular."

"I remember." The soft, teasing tone in Skinner's voice wrapped itself around Mulder's tattered soul. He took a deep shaking breath, his lungs feeling as if he had been shallow-breathing for years, and smiled. He moved to slide his arms around Skinner's waist, pressing his cheek briefly against Skinner's back, breathing in the unique Skinner-scent.

"Morning," Skinner said with a smile in his eyes as Mulder released him and moved to lean against the counter next to him, sipping on his coffee.

"Sorry. Rough night."

"Want to talk about it?" Skinner's voice was soft and warm as an old down comforter, and Mulder wanted to sink into it, to wrap himself in Skinner's love and never come out.

"Not right now. Later."

Skinner nodded and Mulder was overwhelmed again. Scully would have pushed and nagged at him or would have withdrawn behind an icy shell. His mother would have never asked or would have turned away. His father would have - he pushed that thought away uncompleted. But Skinner just accepted his decision without withdrawing his comfort and love. He blinked away sudden tears and turned to finish setting the table.

"Before I left the hospital yesterday, the doctor said I could go back to work week after next," he said casually.

"I can imagine what Scully will think of that," Skinner said dryly. "Well? How do you feel? Think you’ll be ready?"

Mulder nodded. "I feel - okay."

"Then it's settled. It'll be a short work week, anyway, with the MLK holiday."

"Yeah." Mulder pulled the butter and syrup out of the fridge and set them on the table, sneaking a look at Skinner. Nothing had been said about weekend plans, or about the Club, and he was uncertain if he should say something.

"I’m taking a half-day on Friday. Why don't we get a head start on the holiday and go up to the cabin? We can set up the telescope."

Mulder took a deep breath. "Okay."

"Good." Skinner turned the conversation to the headlines in the paper and the sports scores, and Mulder welcomed the retreat from personal issues. 

* * *

After breakfast, they settled at opposite ends of the couch, Mulder retreating inside himself again while Skinner picked up a book and waited from Mulder to emerge. Mulder moved restlessly in his corner, as if trying to find a comfortable position, and Skinner finally put down the book.

"Back feeling stiff?"

"Yeah," Mulder admitted.

"Come here." Skinner grasped Mulder’s wrist and tugged him over Skinner’s thighs, then began rubbing Mulder's shoulders, gently and expertly. Mulder gave up with a groan, closed his eyes and surrendered to those fingers that knew him better than he knew himself. Skillful fingers circled his shoulders, found the knots of tension and eased them, moved to the base of his skull and eased the headache forming there. The hands moved down his back, gentle over his healing scars, and he sighed blissfully. Skinner smiled and rolled Mulder face up. Mulder's eyes snapped open, suddenly wary. Skinner placed his fingers on Mulder's temples, gently circling with the fingertips, and Mulder's eyes drifted shut. His fingers moved up to massage Mulder's skull and the lines of pain between Mulder's eyes eased perceptively. Another sigh and the younger man totally relaxed, drifting into sleep. Skinner smiled, continuing his massage for a little longer until he was certain that Mulder was asleep, then he picked up his book and settled back.

Mulder woke in mid-afternoon, finding himself pillowed on Skinner's legs. Skinner noticed the movement and set down his book and removed his glasses.

"Hi. Feel better?"

Mulder nodded. "Yeah." He smiled crookedly. "You're so good to me. Why?"

Skinner smiled. "Easy. Associating with you all these years has made me certifiably insane." Mulder chuckled weakly and Skinner ruffled his hair affectionately. "Idiot. Come on. Let's go for a walk. We could both use the exercise."

The air was crisp and cool, and Mulder visibly shed the last remnants of sleepiness. "Feels great. It'd be a good day for a run."

"I don't think you left any sweats at my place," Skinner said, "And you need to clear that with your doctor first."

Mulder sighed and settled for a brisk walk through the park. For the first time since his kidnapping, he felt really alive and he looked around him with bright eyes. It had snowed overnight and the sun was shining, reflecting off the white snow that had not yet had a chance to get mushy. There was the sound of laughing children somewhere off in the distance, and the park was fun of joggers enjoying the beautiful day. Suddenly, a mischievous mood took over and he bent, scooping up a handful of snow. A well-aimed snowball landed squarely on Skinner's back and made the older man spin around.

"Now you're asking for it." Skinner scooped up a handful of snow and advanced on Mulder purposefully. The younger man laughed and danced out of range, taunting. Skinner surprised him with a lightening fast move, knocking him down and washing his face with snow, until Mulder laughingly begged for mercy.

"Nice take-down," Mulder gasped, trying to catch his breath between laughs.

Skinner grinned, sitting up and dusting off his hands. "Well, _I_ attend self-defense refresher courses regularly."

"Point taken. Although I can just see explaining that I need the course to out-wrestle my lover."

"J. Edgar would have loved it," Skinner pointed out, his heart warming at the easy way Mulder had said the word "lover". He stood and offered Mulder a hand-up.

A little damp from snow wrestling but in a much lighter frame of mind, they returned to Skinner's apartment. Skinner made hot chocolate while Mulder showered and changed into spare clothes, then they settled in front of the fire, each deep in their own thoughts. Finally, Mulder sighed and sat up, looking over at Skinner.

"Umm - I think we need to talk about this."

"About what?"

"Us. The game. Everything. Are we - are we still playing?"

Skinner tilted his head and studied Mulder. "That’s up to you. What you’ve been through - "

Mulder looked away into the fire. "It wasn’t like our games," he said quietly. "I wasn’t – aroused at all by what he did to me." A sideways look at Skinner, and a half-smile. "And you know that everything you do turns me on."

"But…?"

"But - damn it!" Mulder's voice was muffled as he dropped his face onto his knees. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I'm shaking like a leaf, I jump every time you touch me, and I had such a bad panic attack this morning - " He slammed his fists against the floor. "Why am I such a basket case? He didn't rape me, for Christ's sake! What in the hell is my problem?"

Skinner reached over to gently rub Mulder's back. "You've been through the Victim Sensitivity sessions - you know that it's not uncommon for victims of violence to feel helpless, angry, out of control for awhile after their ordeal."

Mulder snorted. "I'm not _supposed_ to be a victim. I'm supposed to catch monsters like Benett. I'm the genius profiler, remember? I felt safe there at the Club, I let down my guard - shit, Walter! That was a second-rate hood's trick and I fell for it! Just walked right into the elevator without a thought -"

Skinner closed his hand around Mulder's neck and shook him gently. "Stop that. Don't you think I blame myself, too? You told me that he was still stalking you - I should have taken more precautions - but tearing ourselves up over 'should have' does no good. We have to move forward and not let the bastard ruin our lives. I love you, Fox, and you love me, and we'll get through this. Together." Mulder looked away from him. "What is it, Fox?" he asked gently. "You know I'm not going to jump you just because you're here. When _you_ are ready, I'm here for you. And if it would make you feel more comfortable, you can top."

"I wish it was that simple," he muttered. He glanced sideways at Skinner, his face a little flushed, and Skinner thought he was embarrassed. "I - um - "

"What?"

"I'm not - I haven't been - oh, hell!" Mulder moaned and dropped his face into his hands.

Enlightenment dawned, and Skinner wrapped his arms around Mulder. "Fox, it's all right. Impotence is a common occurrence after kidnappings for male hostages. Hell, it happens to most men sometime in their life."

Mulder tried to relax back against Skinner, feeling the comfort from the strong arms around him. "Has it ever happened to you?"

"Hell, yes," Skinner said comfortably. "When I got out of the hospital after 'Nam. For months afterward, I couldn't have gotten it up to save my life." He felt the low laugh rather than heard it and smiled, reassured. If Mulder could still laugh then he was okay. "It passed for me. It'll pass for you, too. You're stronger than you think, tough guy. Look at what you went through without breaking."

"I felt you there with me. I knew I wasn't alone." Mulder sighed and folded his arms over Skinner's arms wrapped around his waist. "So you don't mind a little celibacy for while, till I get over this?"

"Of course not. Idiot," Skinner said affectionately, ruffling his hair. "Much as I esteem that sexy ass of yours, it's not the sole reason I love you."

"Oh, yeah?" Mulder tilted his head back, smiling impishly at Skinner.

Skinner chuckled. "Are you fishing for compliments, babe?"

"Well, my fragile ego could certainly use some stroking right now."

"Yeah?" Skinner suddenly tilted Mulder over on his side and mercilessly tickled him until Mulder begged for mercy.

"No fair," Mulder gasped, collapsed on the floor. "You really are a bastard, you know that?"

"So I've been told," Skinner said tranquilly. He helped Mulder sit back up and then, tentatively, broached a subject that he knew Mulder would not be happy about. "I'd like you to talk to a counselor."

To his surprise, Mulder just sighed. "Yeah. Sean has a friend that he wants me to talk to - a Dr. Malone. He says that she specializes in alternative lifestyles."

"So will you talk with her?" He smoothed Mulder's hair away from his face. "Please, babe?"

Mulder smiled wryly at him. "How can I refuse when you ask so nicely? All right. I'll call Sean on Monday and get him to set up an appointment. Will that make you happy?"

"Ecstatic. And I'll be even happier if you talk to her honestly instead of shoveling the bull you usually give shrinks."

"Geez, Walter, go for the full pound of flesh, why don't you?" Mulder griped. "Okay, I promise. Satisfied?"

"Very." Skinner kissed him gently and was satisfied by the faint response he got back. "Now, let's see about dinner. It's been over four hours since I obsessed over your eating habits." And the snort of laughter that he got back was so normal, so typically Mulder, that he felt really hopeful for the first time in over a week.


	21. Roadblocks and Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder begins the emotional recovery from his ordeal with help from his friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "All I ask of You" by Andrew Lloyd Webber from the "Phantom of the Opera" soundtrack.

_No more talk of darkness_ _  
Forget these wide-eyed fears_  
_I'm here, nothing can harm you_ _  
My words will warm and calm you._ _  
Let me be your freedom_ _  
Let daylight dry your tears_  
_I'm here, with you, beside you_ _  
To guard you and to guide you._ _  
  
Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime_  
_Let me lead you from your solitude_ _  
Say you need me with you, here beside you_ _  
Anywhere you go let me go, too_   
_That's all I ask of you._

  

Mulder gazed at the doorway longingly but a firm voice beside him said, "Make a break for the door and I’m taking you down. I promised Walter _and_ Geoff, and you’re _not_ getting me into trouble with them again."

Mulder sighed and scowled at the man sitting next to him. "I’m an adult, Sean. I think I can manage a doctor’s appointment on my own. I don’t need a nursemaid."

"Right. And who almost jumped out of the car at the last stoplight?"

"I _hate_ shrinks," Mulder grumbled.

"So do I," said a pleasant voice from the doorway. "A bunch of busy-bodies always asking ‘and how do you feel about that?’ "

Mulder nearly jumped out of his skin and turned to see a woman standing in the hallway, smiling at him. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but this tall woman in her early fifties with short salt-and-pepper hair dressed in comfortable jeans and a baggy shirt wasn’t it. But then again, he had expected Sean to take him to a sophisticated, modern office in a high-rise downtown, not a converted house on a wooded lot in the suburbs.

He flushed and stood up, clearing his throat. "Sorry."

"Don’t be – I agree with you." The woman held out her hand. "Kate Malone. And it’s ‘Mulder’ but never ‘Fox’ – am I right?"

"You’ve been talking to Walter," Mulder said with a smile, shaking her hand. She had a firm handshake and a pleasant smile as she nodded in response.

"Sean," she said, turning to him and hugging him. "I haven't seen you in a couple of months. How are you doing? Still making Geoffrey’s life hell?"

"Of course. It’s my mission in life."

Kate Malone shook her head, laughing. "The poor man. Grab a cup of coffee – you know where everything is – and make yourself at home while Mulder and I talk." She led Mulder down the hallway to a comfortable sitting room and gestured toward the chairs. "Get comfortable, Mulder, while I grab my notes. Would you like some coffee?"

Mulder politely refused and entered the room she had indicated. He looked around and saw that it was like an informal living room – a couple chairs and a couch arranged in front of a fireplace with soft lighting – and fought his instinctive urge to relax. He sat down on the edge of one of the wing-back chairs as a feeling of dread filled him. Dr. Malone was obviously very good, knew all the tricks, and she was going to be very hard to fool.

Dr. Malone returned to the room and settled into the other wing-back chair with a notepad and a cup of coffee. "Well, Mulder, as you know I talked to Walter Skinner about your recent ordeal when he set up this appointment. He has his own ideas about why you need counseling, but I’d like to hear your point of view on the subject."

Mulder shrugged. "I don’t really think that I need to talk to anyone other than Walter, but he’s convinced that I’m on the verge of a breakdown."

She smiled wryly. "He also said that you would say that. Mr. Skinner appears to know you very well."

Mulder gave a rueful laugh. "Yeah, well, he’s been my boss for five years and has seen me through a lot of shit."

"And now he is your lover and your Dom as well?"

Mulder met her eyes steadily. "Yes."

He expected a "and-how-do-you-feel-about-that" remark but she merely said, "Sounds like he may know you better than you know yourself. Mr. Skinner says that you had three panic attacks over the past weekend, one that made you leave the hospital without your doctor’s approval, one when you were in bed, and one when your partner arrived at Mr. Skinner’s to take you to the movies."

"I got past them," Mulder said defensively.

"And you had a nightmare the first night that you were at Mr. Skinner’s apartment following your release from the hospital. Would you like to tell me about that nightmare?"

"Not particularly," he said sarcastically. Dr. Malone didn’t say anything, just picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, her eyes on him the entire time. Mulder sighed. "Okay. I’m back with Benett, and he’s working me over again. It’s dark in the room but there’s this kind of light over to the side that I can see just out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head and it’s an open doorway – I can see the sunlight from outside and I know that if I can just get to that door I’ll be safe. But I can’t move even though I can’t see anything tying me in place. And then I see movement in the doorway, and I can see that it’s Walter and Scully, and they’re watching while Benett beats me. Scully looks horrified and she turns and runs away. Walter holds out his hand to me, begging me to come with him, but I can’t move. He drops his hand and turns away, and then he’s gone. I turn my head back towards Benett, and his face changes, like one of the shapeshifters. Then I wake up."

"Who did Benett change into?" Dr. Malone asked, but Mulder didn’t answer. "All right, we’ll come back to this later. Let’s talk about your panic attacks. What happened when you were in the hospital?"

Mulder sighed. "I didn’t have a panic attack. I was thinking about what happened to me, and about Walter, and I realized how dangerous our relationship would be to his career. I decided that it would be better for him if I broke this off now, before he got really hurt. I knew that it would be better for him."

"Mulder, how old is Walter?"

Mulder looked startled. "Um – forty-seven, I think."

"Does he strike you as being mentally stable?"

Mulder grinned briefly. "Well, except for loving me, yeah."

"Then you are saying that Walter Skinner is a grown man who is full possession of his senses and should be capable of making his own decisions. Would you agree with this assessment?"

Mulder knew where this was going and got up from his chair, moving over to stand in front of the fireplace. "All right, all right, I know what you’re trying to say. Walter has decided that he wants to be with me, God knows why, and, since he should certainly know his own mind, I should allow him to share in the decision about whether we continue this relationship. The problem is that Walter is so damned honorable that he’d rather be shot than break a promise."

"That’s twice that you’ve done that."

Mulder turned around and frowned at her, puzzled. "What?"

"Denigrated yourself. First you said that Walter Skinner was mentally stable ‘except for loving me’, and then you said that ‘Walter has decided that he wants to be with me, God knows why’. Don’t you think that you’re worthy of being loved?"

Mulder snorted. "I’ve been through this crap before, Dr. Malone. My psych reports at the Bureau are just full of speculations that I suffer from low self-esteem. Right alongside the ones that say I have an ego the size of Texas. Well, here’s a news flash for you, Doctor. My ego and self-esteem are just fine, thank you. I just refuse to look at myself through rose-colored glasses."

"Bullshit."

Mulder stared for a moment, and then a reluctant grin crossed his face. "You don’t mince words, do you, Dr. Malone?"

"No, I don’t. And it’s Kate. Now what do you say we cut through all the crap and get to the heart of the matter?"

Mulder threw himself back into the chair. "Is this where we get into the ‘I-love-my-mother-and-hate-my-father’ crap?"

"I’m not Freudian, Mulder, and I could care less whether you hated your father. Most of us do from time to time. What I care about is the fact that you hate yourself. Who did Benett change into, Mulder? Did he turn into you?"

"Shit." Mulder drew a shaky breath. "You don’t pull any punches, do you?"

"No, I don’t. If you want someone to listen to you shovel a lot of shit and pat your hand and give you the standard lines, then you’ve come to the wrong person. You won’t get away with any crap with me – I’ll call you on it every time. But if you want someone who’ll be here for you, who’ll listen to whatever you have to say without judgment, who’ll help you find your way out that door into the light, then here I am. So what’s it going to be?"

Mulder looked at her speculatively. "You’ll really listen to _whatever_ I have to say without judgment?"

"I guarantee that you cannot possibly shock me, no matter what you say. Or disgust or offend me."

"You have no problems with my ‘deviant sexual behavior’?"

"Define ‘deviant sexual behavior’."

"I’m engaged in a homosexual B&D relationship. That qualifies as deviant in most people’s book."

"Well, it doesn’t qualify as deviant in mine. _All_ of my clients are involved in an alternate lifestyle of some sort: gay, lesbian, bisexual, B &D, S&M, tops, bottoms, switchers, transvestites, drag queens. And I do pre-and-post sex change counseling as well. As far as my clients go, Mulder, you’re devastatingly normal."

Mulder laughed and relaxed for the first time, dropping the brittle exterior to display the charming and humorous man underneath. "I don’t know if I can handle being normal."

"Think of it as a challenge." She set down her pad and leaned forward. "Mulder, when you came in here you said that you didn’t have any issues to discuss. I have to disagree with your self-diagnosis. I think that you are looking at a lot of issues: the recent traumatic abuse, the nightmares, and the panic attacks. I also have a feeling that you are not totally comfortable with your relationship with Walter. All joking aside, do you really see it as deviant sexual behavior?"

Mulder was quiet for a long moment, looking down at his hands, then sighed. "I never really thought about my sexual orientation, just took it for granted that I was het even though all of my sexual relationships with women have been unqualified disasters. When I joined the Club, I wasn’t looking for a romantic relationship – I’m not even sure what I was really looking for except someone else to take control for awhile. When I was assigned to him, I was horrified at first – Christ, the man is my boss! – but we just seemed to fit together so well. He was just the kind of top I was looking for, and he’s told me that I’m the kind of sub that he prefers. But it wasn’t a relationship, you know; it was just playing a game. Only – somewhere along the road it became something more, for both of us. He’s – God! I’ve never felt like this about anyone in my life before, and it scares the shit out of me. Not because he’s a man, but because he’s so deep in my heart that it will kill me when I lose him. And I can’t talk to anyone about this _because_ he’s a man – I can’t call up my friends and say ‘listen, I’m having some trouble coping with my feelings about my lover and, by the way, he’s a man’. Scully tries to listen but she really doesn’t understand."

"Talk to _me,_ Mulder – that’s why I’m here," Kate Malone said gently. "Now why do you think that you’ll lose him?"

Mulder shrugged. "Everyone leaves, sooner or later. Sometimes they get tired of all my shit. Other times – things just happen to those I love."

"Why do you think that?"

"It’s a fact. My sister disappeared when I was twelve. My parents left emotionally at about the same time. My first serious relationship ended when she left me for someone who could further her career. My second serious relationship ended for similar reasons. My first partner and the first boss I ever got along with were both killed by psychotic criminals. My current partner was abducted and missing for three months – we still don’t know what happened to her while she was gone. Walter was shot and nearly killed for refusing to back down from an investigation of ours."

"And why do you think that any of that is because of you?"

"Things happen to the people around me. I am a magnet for death and destruction."

Kate shook her head and sighed. "Not everything is about you, Mulder."

His eyes gleamed with humor. "That’s what Scully says."

"Sounds like a smart woman. Mulder, you can’t do anything about the past except to let it go. As for the future – do you have any reason to believe that Walter Skinner will ‘get tired of all your shit’ and leave?"

Mulder smiled, reluctantly. "No. He says that I’ll have to hit him over the head with a shovel to get rid of him."

Kate Malone laughed. "I think I like your Walter."

Mulder grinned. "Sorry, he’s already taken."

"Then go home and tell _him_ that," she said gently. When Mulder flushed and shifted a little in his chair, she tilted her head and studied him. "What?"

"Um – well, this is a little – " Mulder took a deep breath and said, "I feel a little uncomfortable talking about this but – well, ever since – Benett – I - " He paused again and then said, in a rush, "I haven’t been sexually aroused since then."

"That’s very common following traumatic incidents like this. Have you ever had this problem before now?"

" _Never_ ," Mulder said fervently, getting up and pacing again. "I mean, I woke up in bed with Walter wrapped around me, and I should have been so turned on that I jumped him right then but instead I got a panic attack so bad that I nearly climbed the wall to get away from him. And then I threw up, and I was shaking badly, and I was _foul_ to him when he got up the next morning. I'm amazed that he didn’t throw something at me, but he was just as patient as usual. He – he puts up with all my shit, and he’s not even getting anything out of it."

Kate frowned. "Do you think Walter expects sex from you in payment for his patience?"

"Of course not – but the whole reason we got involved to begin with was for the games, and we had a _lot_ of sex."

"Was it good?"

Mulder grinned. "It was _great._ "

"Then what makes you think that he won’t wait? Mulder, you’ve gone through a traumatic ordeal, you’ve been out of the hospital three days, and you expect to just jump back in bed like nothing happened? You need to give yourself some time, resolve some issues, get some control back over your life before you can relinquish any of that control to someone else. Explore other avenues of expression until you feel comfortable enough to initiate sex again. When you do - if Walter feels comfortable with this - you might want to top or at least take the top position so that you control the activity."

Mulder nodded. "Walter already suggested that."

"Good. It sounds like he's a flexible, caring man, and I expect that he'll be willing to take it at your pace as long as you are honest with him. I've seen similar cases and the one thing that does the most damage is dishonesty on either part." She consulted her notepad. "I'll be meeting with both Walter and your partner as well." At his panicked look, she quickly said, "We won't be discussing any of the issues that you discuss with me, Mulder, but they've gone through an ordeal, too, and they are going to need counseling to deal with it and be supportive to you."

Mulder nodded. "Okay."

"Good. Well, I think that's all you can handle for one session." She smiled at him. "So, Mulder - do I pass?"

Mulder slowly smiled. "Yeah. Full points in every category. It's going to be hard as hell to slip anything past you. Are you _sure_ you're a psychiatrist?"

"Just wait till you get my bill. That should convince you."

* * *

Skinner pulled up in front of the cabin and stopped the engine. Mulder sat quietly in the passenger seat, seemingly lost in thought, and Skinner reached out to briefly touch his arm. "We're here, Fox."

Mulder slowly seemed to come back from wherever he had been and Skinner was relieved to see that he didn't flinch away from Skinner's brief touch. Everything had gone well during the past week until an incident two days earlier. Mulder had been dozing on the couch and Skinner had touched his shoulder gently to wake him. Moments later, he found himself sitting on the floor with his head tilted back and an ice pack on his nose while Mulder repeated apologies over and over. He hadn't been angry, had reassured Mulder, and had even laughed about his lover's quick reflexes, but Mulder had been mortified and had nearly run back to his own apartment that same night. It had taken all of Skinner's persuasive powers to keep him there. Later that night, Skinner had awakened to the sensation of a warm mouth enveloping his cock and had nearly been rendered unconscious from the intensity of the blow job he had received, only to have Mulder slip out of bed immediately and return to his nest on the couch. Skinner didn't know whether to be grateful or angry or hurt over the incident and, when Mulder didn't mention it in the morning, just decided to ignore the incident until he could discuss it with Dr. Malone.

He had met with Dr. Malone that morning and, after the past tense two days, it was a relief. He had liked her at once, felt comfortable with her no-nonsense attitude and had found himself talking about things that he had never discussed with anyone. His anxiety over Mulder, not just from the Benett incident but when he was in the field. His helplessness in the face of Mulder's rapid mood swings. His past experiences and the lack of control in his own life that had made him seek out the Club in the first place. And he had to agree with Mulder's assessment: Kate Malone was sharp and knew her stuff.

Skinner got out of the car and unloaded the suitcases from the trunk, carrying them up to the porch.

Mulder followed slowly, noticing the Christmas tree that stood in its container on the porch. A friend of Skinner's with a pickup truck had brought it out here and one of Skinner's plans for the weekend was to plant the tree on the property. He smiled as he touched the needles, remembering that wonderful weekend, and he felt himself relax for the first time in days - ever since he had accidentally given Skinner a bloody nose. Skinner had insisted that he wasn't angry with him but Mulder had sensed the anger in him the next day although Skinner hadn't said anything about either the incident or the midnight blowjob. Things had been tense around the apartment for the last two days, and Mulder had wondered whether Skinner was getting sick of having him around and whether he should return to his own apartment and give Skinner some peace and quiet, but Skinner wouldn't hear of it. Mulder had even tried to get out of this weekend but Skinner had insisted that they both needed it, and that it would be a good opportunity to set up the telescope. That reminded Mulder, and he went back down to the car to fetch the disassembled telescope.

When he got back up to the porch, Skinner had unlocked the door and set the suitcases in the bedroom. Mulder carefully set the telescope pieces over to one side and helped bring in the groceries, then sat down to assemble the telescope and align its mirrors correctly. By the time they sat down to dinner, Skinner was relieved to see that Mulder was in a good mood. He encouraged Mulder to talk about what they might be able to see over the next three nights, given the weather conditions. That was all the encouragement Mulder needed to dive headlong into one of his favorite hobbies, and he absently ate his way through a substantial meal while talking about the winter constellations and the current position of the planets. Not for the first time, Skinner marveled at the wealth of knowledge the man possessed and sat back to let the words wash over him. Mulder was at full throttle now, talking about the constellations and the mythology behind them, but Skinner just watched the face, reveling in the animation on it.

Mulder paused in the middle of his story about Orion, noticing that there was a funny expression on Skinner's face, and grinned. "What?"

Skinner just smiled and shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go look at the stars."

* * *

The next afternoon, Skinner paused in his digging and eyeballed the hole in the ground. "I think that's deep enough. Let's get the tree out of the container." Mulder held onto the container while Skinner lifted the former Christmas tree out, then he helped guide the tree into the center of the hole and quickly shoveled in dirt to hold the tree in place. Once Skinner was certain that the tree wasn't going anywhere, he helped Mulder fill in the hole and pack down the dirt, then the two men stepped back and surveyed their handiwork.

"How big is this thing going to get?" Mulder asked and, when Skinner gave him his best guess, studied the area. "Then the next one should go about here. And do you think we could dig the hole ahead of time - before the ground freezes to the consistency of concrete?"

Skinner laughed but was secretly pleased that Mulder was talking about next Christmas as if it were a foregone conclusion that they would still be together. A week ago he hadn't been at all certain of that. "City boy," he said teasingly.

"And you love that about me."

"Among other things," Skinner agreed. "Hot chocolate?"

Mulder slipped an arm around his waist as they started toward the cabin. "In front of the fireplace?"

"Is that a hint that you'd like me to build a fire?"

"Too subtle?" Mulder grinned at him and Skinner cuffed him.

"Smart ass."

They shed their coats and boots, and Mulder headed to the kitchen to make hot chocolate while Skinner built a fire in the fireplace. A short time later, they were settled on the couch in front of the fire. Mulder cuddled up against Skinner for the first time since Wednesday, his back against Skinner's chest as they stretched out on the couch and Skinner's arms wrapped around his lover. Mulder dropped his head back against Skinner's shoulder and sighed deeply.

"This is nice."

"Yes, it is." Skinner dropped a kiss on the soft hair under his chin, unsure what had brought this about but willing to go with it. "You know, it was incredible seeing Saturn like that last night. I mean, intellectually I knew it had rings but somehow actually seeing it - well, it was incredible."

Mulder grinned at the awe in Skinner's voice. "It takes so little to impress you, big guy."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I have some pretty demanding tastes."

"You don't demand enough."

Skinner tilted his head, trying to see Mulder's face. "Why do I get the impression that we are talking about something other than the stars?"

Mulder shrugged slightly. "I don't see what you're getting out of this, why you dragged me up here with you, when all you're getting is my pathetic shit."

Skinner was still for a moment, so blindingly furious that he couldn't trust himself to speak or move for a moment. When he finally had enough control of himself, he pushed Mulder up slightly and slipped out from behind him. Quickly, he slipped on his boots and his coat, without looking at Mulder.

"I'm going to get more firewood," he said, heading for the door.

"But Walter, you got in plenty earlier - "

"I am going to get more firewood," he growled, spitting out every word, then closed the door. He stomped off the porch, around the side of the house to the woodpile, releasing his pent-up anger by cursing under his breath and slamming around the stacked wood. When he returned to the cabin, he was reasonably controlled and utterly determined to have this out with Mulder.

Mulder was still sitting on the couch, huddled under the blanket. Skinner carefully set down the wood, removed his outside garments, and went to sit down on the other end of the couch.

"Fox, we have to talk."

Mulder nodded, miserably. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I did, Walter, but I'm sorry."

Skinner let out a deep breath. "I know you are, babe, and I guess that I know you didn't mean to hurt me that way. But how many times do we have to go over this? I. Love. You. Whether you're in a good mood or a bad mood. Whether we're having sex or not. My love isn’t conditional on you being Mr. Congeniality or you putting out. Don't get me wrong - I love making love to you and I miss it, but I miss the cuddling just as much as the fucking, and I won't accept hit-and-run blowjobs as some kind of apology. In fact, if I had to choose just one or the other for the rest of my life, I'd choose the cuddling. I can take care of my frustrations easily enough, but I can't cuddle with Mr. Hand."

Mulder snickered at that, then got on his knees and moved down the couch to Skinner. "I've been an idiot and I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, you're _my_ idiot, and don't forget it," Skinner said gruffly, leaning over to kiss Mulder briefly.

"Yes, sir," Mulder said impishly. "Do you think we can try that cuddling thing again? If I promise to keep my mouth shut?"

Skinner shifted on the couch and held open his arms, and Mulder slid into them with a contented sigh. They sat in silence for a long time, just watching the fire and drawing strength from each other.

Mulder shifted sideways on the couch, resting his cheek over Skinner's heart, and felt a vast contentment sink into him all the way to his soul. It wouldn't last, he thought sleepily; he was far too mercurial to wear tranquility as a regular garment, like Scully and Skinner seemed to be able to do. Still, maybe enough would flow into all the cracks and damaged places in his heart and soul to enable him to face the future without despair. Maybe even one day he would be able to look forward to the days ahead and to remember past days fondly. He had a feeling that, if Skinner had anything to say about it, he would. Even if the man had to drag him into happiness, kicking and screaming. He smiled and let his eyes drift shut.

* * *

Scully was surprised when the phone rang late one Friday night and Walter Skinner was on the other end. It had been four weeks since Mulder's ordeal and rescue, and her partner had been back at work for the past two week - a bit of an emotional roller coaster for him, but he seemed to be coping well and was pursuing two possible X-Files. Mulder had also been seeing Dr. Malone for the past three weeks, and Scully had met with her once to discuss her own concerns and how best to support Mulder during his recovery. She knew that he had been spending every weekend at Skinner's apartment and had been relieved that he wasn't alone at his own place, even though she knew that the two of them had some serious issues to work out. Still, Mulder had been more restless than usual the last two days and she wondered if something was up.

"Scully - " There was an edge of panic in that voice, something she had never heard before, and she sat bolt upright. "I need your help."

"What's wrong, sir?" Mulder, she thought, it had to be Mulder.

"I - I need to take Mulder to Dr. Malone. She's expecting him. But - he won't let me get him dressed. Won't let me touch him. I had to take away his gun - "

"Shit! I'm on my way - fifteen minutes, tops." She hung up and threw on her shoes and coat, grabbed her purse and Emergency-Mulder-Repair-Kit and ran for her car. Ran every light she could on her way to Crystal City.

Skinner opened the door to her knock as if he had been waiting right by the door. He was dressed in sweats, his face pale.

"He's in the bathroom." He led the way up to the master bedroom, halting outside and drawing a deep breath. "I - I'll go into the living room. I laid out clothes in the bedroom." He turned abruptly and went into the living room.

She nodded, noting that the panic had been suppressed under an economical, clipped tone. This voice she had heard before, when one of them had been in trouble or danger, and it gave her a whole new insight into her boss' personality. She took a deep breath, went through the bedroom, and opened the bathroom door. And nearly had a heart attack.

Mulder was sitting in the empty tub, naked, knees drawn up to his chest, shaking and rocking. Just like that time she had found him in the hotel bathroom. She closed the toilet lid and sat down, not daring to touch him yet.

"Mulder? Mulder, it's Scully." He continued to rock, oblivious to her. "Come on, partner. Come on back."

"Scully?"

The voice was high and thin, panic running under it.

"Yes, Mulder. It's Scully. How are you feeling?"

"Cold."

"I'm not surprised. Let's get you dressed, okay?"

He shuddered. "Can't."

"Why not, Mulder?"

"Took my clothes. Don't want to wear his."

Scully frowned. "Mulder, why would Skinner take your clothes?"

He shook his head, shuddering. "Not Skinner. _Him._ Benett."

Scully closed her eyes, her stomach dropping to her feet. Sweet Jesus, she thought. "Mulder, Benett is dead. Your clothes are here, in the bedroom."

He shuddered again, seemed to focus on the present. He looked up then, and her heart contracted at the pain in his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"Mulder, it's okay. Let's get some clothes on you." Coaxing him out of the tub, she led him into the bedroom and helped him put on the clothes laid out. He was unusually quiet and docile, letting her lace his sneakers and obediently rising when she tugged on his elbow.

Skinner was pacing the living room and swung around as they came in, his eyes painfully fixed on Mulder's face.

Mulder managed a half-smile. "Hey."

Skinner tried to smile. "Hey, yourself. You okay?"

Mulder shrugged. "Guess that wasn't such a hot idea, huh?"

Skinner's hand went out involuntarily and Mulder flinched. His hand dropped back to his side. "Dr. Malone wants you to come spend the weekend."

Mulder rocked on his heels, nodding, his eyes over-bright. "Well, it beats a padded cell. I'm about due for another 'get-in-touch-with-your-feelings-as-a-victim' session, anyway."

"Fox…" Skinner's voice was agonized.

Scully wanted to punch her partner. She glared at him instead and he looked at his feet, embarrassed.

"Sorry, Walter," he said softly. "It's not your fault. I'll go. Scully can drive me."

Skinner nodded, picked up an overnight bag and handed it to Scully.

"I'll stop back by after he's settled in," she said softly, and Skinner nodded. Then she took Mulder's arm again and steered him out the door to her car.

Inside, Skinner stood staring at the door for a long moment. Then he went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of Scotch.

* * *

Scully knocked on the door and heard a voice call out for her to enter. Opening the door, she walked into the living room and found Skinner sitting on the couch, a half-empty bottle of Scotch on the table. She looked at him sharply.

"Sir, how much of this have you drunk?"

"It was a full bottle," he said wearily. His glasses were off, lying on the table, and he looked oddly vulnerable without them.

Scully sighed and picked up the bottle. "This won't help, sir."

"No," he said bleakly. "Nothing helps."

"I'm going to make some coffee. Have you eaten?" Skinner's lips twitched into a parody of a smile. "What?"

"I'm always asking Fox that."

"Yeah, he said you were obsessed with his stomach." She studied him. "How long have you known that he had an eating disorder?"

Skinner shrugged. "I'd heard rumors about his sensitive stomach from VCU." He sat for a moment, then suddenly stood and flung his glass against the fireplace. It shattered, and Scully flinched and stared at Skinner in amazement. "God-damned sorry son of a bitch! I wish that bastard was still alive so I could kill him myself!"

Scully gently put her hand on his arm. "Sir, that won't help."

He sighed and looked at Scully bleakly. "I know. But I can't help wishing it."

He looked so oddly lost and she tugged on his arm, leading him toward the kitchen. She pushed him into a chair and started investigating the kitchen. Suddenly he felt unbearably tired and put his head down on his arms on the table.

Scully made coffee in silence, then set a mug next to Skinner. "Drink this, sir."

"Walter." The word was muffled as his head was still lying on his arms.

"Sir?"

Skinner sat up. "Please. After all we've gone through on this. Call me Walter - at least away from work. Unless it makes you uncomfortable."

She nodded and smiled. "All right - Walter." She sat down in the chair across from him with her own coffee cup and said, teasingly, "I will admit to being a little jealous. Mulder doesn't let anyone else call him 'Fox'."

Skinner snorted. "He's not too happy that I call him 'Fox' either, but I told him to get over it. He says it's better than my other nickname for him."

Scully nearly choked on her coffee. Skinner's bizarre sense of humor never failed to surprise her.

Skinner looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "Something go down the wrong way, Agent Scully?"

"Dana," she managed to say. "Do I want to know what that other nickname is?"

"Probably not - Fox would have to kill us both." He became absorbed in the interior of his coffee mug. "So. He got settled in okay?"

"Yes. Kate put him in the spare room she keeps for emergencies like this and said that she was going to give him a sedative and let him sleep for awhile before talking to him." There was a heavy silence, then she said tentatively, "Walter - can I ask what happened?"

Skinner grimaced. "What happened is that I was an idiot. One hundred percent, grade A, accept-no-imitations idiot. After all the counseling and reading, I should have known better. He wasn't ready. I knew that. I _knew_ that. How in the hell could I let him convince me otherwise?"

The picture began to be clear in Scully's mind. "Mulder can be very convincing when he wants to be."

"He gets these sad eyes and his bottom lip sticks out just a little and trembles…"

Scully nodded. "Yeah, his kicked puppy look. Works every time. If you only knew how many times he's gotten me to follow him on one of his wild hunches because of that look..."

Skinner snorted. "I have an idea - remember, I'm the one who has to read your reports. 'Kicked puppy look', huh?" He smiled a little, reluctantly. "Guess that solves an X-file of my own I've been wondering about."

Scully smiled and then concentrated on her coffee, a little embarrassed about her next question. "I take it that Mulder convinced you that he was ready to - resume intimate relations."

"Nicely put. His terminology was a little - earthier, shall we say?" He stared broodingly into the mug. "And it seemed to be going well." He sighed. "His feet got tangled in the sheets. He thought he was tied down and panicked." He thought how inadequate that word was for the hellcat that his lover had suddenly turned into. "I backed off and he seemed to settle down, went into the bathroom. That was when I realized that his gun wasn't on the dresser anymore. I went roaring into the bathroom and he was - he was just standing there and staring at it like he wasn't sure how it got into his hand.  Jesus, Scully, it scared the shit out of me. I'm afraid that I didn't handle it well. I blew up and took it away and - God! He started whimpering and went into the tub, shaking and - " He stopped, suddenly running out of energy, and covered his face with his hands. "He just kept calling your name in such a heart-breaking way."

Irrationally, the fact that Mulder had called for Scully, had needed her, made Scully feel warm inside and healed an unacknowledged wound. Ever since she had found out about Mulder and Skinner, she had felt an irrational jealousy. She had tried to reason with herself - there was no way that she wanted Fox Mulder as a lover - but she knew that it wasn't the physical intimacy that she was jealous about. For so long it had just been her and Mulder; there had been no one else to trust and she had been the only one he had turned to. True, his neediness had sometimes overwhelmed her and their friendship had been severely strained over the past year because of that. Still, it had hurt to see him turn to someone else, to call someone else first, to want someone else at his side. She had felt abandoned. Now the knowledge that he had needed her healed that wound, and more.

She remembered the horrible months after her remission when she and Mulder could barely speak. She remembered the past six months when, against all odds, they had worked their way back to a comfort that she thought had been lost forever. Ever since he had become involved with Skinner. She remembered what Skinner had said when she asked him what he got out of the relationship, the way he had described Mulder. Suddenly, she felt a warmth and affection for this man, her best friend's lover. He had called her, understanding Mulder's need, had stepped back to let her take care of her partner when it must have been killing him inside. She felt closer to Skinner than she had ever felt before: her partner's partner which, by some weird twist of logic, made him sort of her partner as well.

"Come on," she said, pulling him up from the chair. "You are burnt to the socket." She guided him to the bedroom, pulled down the covers, and pushed him to sit. "Get some rest. The doctor won't be calling for hours." He sighed and laid down, exhaustion claiming him, and she covered him with a blanket and removed his glasses. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

"Dana."

She paused in the doorway.

"Thanks."

She smiled. "What are friends for?" Then she closed the door.

* * *

A couple hours later, after a nap and a shower that left him feeling a little less despairing, Skinner sat on the couch watching a football game with Scully. The phone rang and he picked it up, suddenly feeling his heart in his throat.

"Hello?"

"Walter, it's Kate Malone. How are you doing?"

He drew a deep breath. "Okay, I guess. Scully's been keeping me out of trouble. How's Fox?"

"A little shaky but doing well. He had a good rest and then we had a long talk. I want to discuss what happened with you. But first of all, stop blaming yourself. And don't try to tell me that you're not, because I won't accept that bullshit from you."

He chuckled a little. "You know me so well. All right, I'll try not to but I can't help feeling it was my fault."

"It takes two to tango, Walter. That man has you wrapped around his finger and we both know how persuasive he can be."

"Yeah, Scully calls it his kicked puppy look." He grinned at Scully and she smiled back.

"These kinds of things happen, Walter. We all knew that it wasn't going to be easy."

"I know. What scared me most was the gun."

She sighed. "We both know that Mulder has never been one to face his problems - he likes to run away, to court self-destruction. He wants to tell you himself why he had the gun, and I'll let him talk to you in a minute, but I wanted to see how you were doing first. I want to make an appointment for you to come in and talk this over."

Mulder wanted to talk to him. He thought his heart would explode through his chest. He cleared his throat, barely able to absorb her words. "Yes. Fine. Tomorrow? Sorry, tomorrow is Sunday - Monday."

She sounded amused. "Why don't you come this afternoon - around four p.m. You should be able to take Mulder home afterward."

"Yes."

"All right, now I'm going to get Mulder. He's really trying, Walter, but he's scared that he's messed things up between you. He's a little shaky and emotional, so don't be surprised or worried about that. He needs a little reassurance. Just be yourself."

"Okay."

There was a long pause, then the sound of the phone being picked up. "Walter?"

Jesus, that lost little voice again. "Fox," he said soothingly. "How are you doing, babe?"

Scully had been determinedly trying to not listen to the one-sided conversation, but that softly intimate tone of voice made her throat choke with sympathetic emotions and she stood up, making gestures that she was going to the kitchen. Skinner nodded, gratefully.

The voice strengthened a little. "Okay, I guess. Great room service at this place. I had a little nap and yes, I've eaten." There was the faintest suggestion of a laugh and Skinner smiled.

"Good. You know how obsessed I am with your stomach."

"You just want me to get fat and out of shape so you can outrun me."

"Damn, you figured me out. Guess I'll have to come up with another plan." He paused then said, achingly, "Fox, why? You weren't ready."

Mulder sighed. "I - it's been a month since … I miss it, Walter. I miss feeling you inside me. And I - I was afraid you'd - get tired of this. Of me."

Skinner's jaw clenched and he saw red. "You what? Of all the stupid - how many times do I have to tell you that I love you for more than your ass! God damn it, Mulder! How dare you risk _us_ like this?" He halted, appalled at what he had said.

Oddly enough, Mulder seemed to be reassured by his ranting and said, calmly, "I wasn't going to do it." There was a long pause. "Kill myself. I thought so at first. I mean, I've screwed up your life so much already, I thought maybe it would be better if I just - left the scene. Let you get on with your life, without having to deal with all my crap."

Skinner thought his heart would stop beating and wanted to shake Mulder and make him see that it was no longer possible for him to 'get on with his life' without his lover. He took a deep breath and tried humor instead. "At what point did you realize that it would screw up my life more to have to explain the suicide of a naked subordinate in my bathroom?"

A weak chuckle on the other end of the phone. "About a half-minute before you walked in."

"Nothing wrong with your brains, Mulder," he said with a growl, and heard Mulder laugh again, stronger this time. For some reason - and he thought it must be an X-file - Mulder loved his growl.

"Yeah, well, you might get a debate on that in some circles," Mulder said dryly then, in a softer voice, said, "You okay, big guy?"

Skinner blinked away sudden tears. "Yeah. Scully's keeping an eye on me. You want to talk to her?"

"Yeah. I need to tell her to lock up the liquor."

Skinner chuckled. "Too late. She took it away from me, though. Should I be worried that you know _my_ foibles so well?"

"Probably. When you coming to spring me from this joint?"

"This afternoon. I'll bake a file into a cake and the getaway car will be at the back door." Mulder laughed again. "I'll get Scully."

He set down the phone and padded into the kitchen. Scully was going through the refrigerator, trying to figure out what was available for breakfast. "Mulder wants to talk to you. I'll cook."

Scully looked him over for a second, decided that he looked much better, and nodded. As she disappeared into the living room, Skinner pulled out the makings for omelet. When Scully returned a little while later, she sniffed the air appreciatively.

"Mmm. Smells good. Mulder mentioned that you cooked."

"Well, one of us has to," Skinner said dryly. "That man must support the take-out business in this town single-handedly."

Scully chuckled. "Better watch it, Walter - you'll cause an economic collapse in the city."

"More of a downward slump - I'm weaning him off the stuff gradually. I don't think his system can support the shock of going cold turkey."

Scully laughed and Skinner thought suddenly that it had been a while since he had seen her relax. "Can I do anything to help?"

"You can set the table, if you'd like, while I do the cheese bread."

"Good thing I have good cholesterol readings," she said good-humoredly, going to the cabinet and pulling out dishes. "Aren't you worried?"

"Nope. I figure I'm more likely to suffer a heart attack from his antics than from anything I eat," Skinner said dryly. Scully snorted.

Scully enjoyed that meal more than she thought that she would and she began to understand the connection between her partner and his lover, their boss, a little better. She had always been a little uncomfortable around Skinner, particularly after she had accused him of being a mole, an accusation that had proved to be wrong. Now, over breakfast, Skinner was revealed to be a well-read and well-informed person and she enjoyed discussing current events with him.

"Scully," he said hesitantly, "Dana. Would you - would you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

She smiled faintly. "Why haven't Mulder and I become lovers?"

"You don't have to answer - it's just that it's obvious that you two care about each other. You've worked together for over five years. You have a link on a deep level and instinctively look to each other in trouble. So - why not?"

Scully looked thoughtful. "I have thought about it, Walter. I think - there was a time years back, before the cancer, when we might have become lovers. And it would have been a big mistake." He was quiet, watching her, waiting for her to collect her thoughts. "Remember what you said about the reason Mulder needed the Club? That it was about control? Well, I realized that our partnership is the same way. I'm the one keeping my feet on the ground so that Mulder can be free to explore every theory, even the crazy ones. After my remission, I was so tired that I wanted someone else to take charge and that's when our partnership fell apart. Unfortunately, that was when he needed someone to ground him the most. Now we've got the old dynamics back and we're okay, but we could never be together like that. We're better as friends."

Skinner reached across the table to touch her hand briefly. "He's lucky to have a friend like you. We both are."

Scully blushed and turned the subject into a less personal area.

* * *

Mulder paced restlessly around his apartment, then threw himself down on the couch and began channel surfing. Skinner had taken him home - at his own request - after picking him up from Dr. Malone's. The two of them had talked for a long time after Skinner's arrival at the Clinic, no doubt about Skinner's feelings following the sexual fiasco and whether Mulder would be safe on his own. Evidently Kate had thought that he was not a menace to himself or society for Skinner had taken him home without any disagreement - a fact that had made Mulder feel a little uneasy. However, he determined not to read more into it than how it appeared for a change.

He turned his attention to the television, but there was nothing on to distract him and he had given his video collection - well, his more interesting tapes, anyway - to Frohike months earlier. What he really wanted, what he needed, was Walter Skinner. God, how pathetic am I? he thought. Can't spend a weekend by myself.

At three am he gave up, picked up his overnight bag and ran down to his car. The apartment was dark when he unlocked the door, and he set his bag down in the hallway. He hesitated, thought about going upstairs, then decided not to, his mind skittering away from the picture of Skinner in bed. Let Walter sleep - he'd see him in the morning and then they would talk. Already he felt more relaxed and sleepy, so he stretched out on the couch and turned on the TV.

Skinner was awakened in the middle of the night by the sense that something was different. He got out of bed and put on his robe, then went downstairs. At the base of the stairs he knew what it was and his mouth curved into a smile. Mulder was sprawled on the couch, remote in hand and TV on, fast asleep. He pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and covered Mulder, then went back to bed. He relaxed, knowing that his lover was safely under his roof, and closed his eyes. They would talk in the morning.

Mulder woke to the smell of coffee and bacon and found that sometime during his sleep he had acquired a blanket. He pushed himself up and padded down the hallway to the kitchen, a little uncertain of his reception. He had not even called last night, had shown up unexpectedly on the man's couch, and he figured that Skinner had every right to be pissed.

"Morning," Skinner said affably as he entered. "Hungry?"

"Mmm." Mulder considered. "Guess I will be when I finish waking up."

"You've got time for a shower. I put your bag upstairs."

Mulder nodded, snagged a cup of coffee, and went upstairs. His overnight bag was on top of the dresser in the guestroom with a stack of towels and toiletries beside it. He was grateful for Skinner's sensitivity in knowing that he wouldn't want to use the master bathroom. Mulder shut the door and stripped, carrying the towels and shampoo into the adjoining bathroom. The hot water felt good and he stood for a long time, just letting it wash over himself, then stirred himself to soap up and rinse. Even though it was Sunday, he decided to shave and felt much more normal when he was finished. Dressed in comfortable jeans and a shirt, he went downstairs to breakfast and a long-overdue, honest talk with his lover.


	22. Reach Out and Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of phone calls and emails while Mulder and Scully are in Texas on a case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Far Longer Than Forever" from "The Swan Princess". 
> 
> And now for something completely different…. a change of pace after all the angst of the past few chapters. This chapter is wrapped around one of my favorite 5th season shows, however I made some small changes to the sequence of events to fit my subplot.

_Far longer than forever  
I'll hold you in my heart._ _  
It's almost like you're here with me  
although we're far apart._  
_Far longer than forever, as constant as a star_  
_I close my eyes and I am where you are._

 

**February 10, 1998, 9 a.m.  
Washington, DC**

 

"Hi."

"Fox? Aren’t you supposed to be on an airplane heading for Texas?"

"Anxious to get rid of me, Walter?"

"Idiot."

 _Laugh._ "Actually, our flight is delayed. Scully’s gone to get some coffee and bagels, so I thought I’d give you a call."

 _Settling back in his chair._ "I’m glad you did." _Soft voice._ "You okay?"

"Yeah. I really am." _Deep breath._ "Thanks for being so understanding – you know – Sunday."

 _Cleared throat._ "No problem. You know I’m here for you, babe. Anytime you want to talk."

"Yeah." _Silence for a moment._ "I guess – I guess I was afraid to let you see how confused I was about everything. That I was afraid you’d take it wrong. Take it personal."

"I can see that – it didn’t help when I blew up that time up at the cabin."

"I was being an asshole."

"I still shouldn’t have stormed off. I should have stayed and talked." _Self-depreciating snort._ "Sharon always did say I had a problem discussing deep emotional issues."

"Not that _I’ve_ noticed. You’re doing a hell of a lot better than me, big guy."

"So – sleep okay last night?"

"Actually, I did. No nightmares – well, not any that I remember – and I actually fell asleep at a decent hour for me." _Rustling noise and murmured voice._ "Thanks, Scully."

"Scully’s back? Let me speak to her for a moment."

 _More rustling._ "Sir?"

"Morning, Agent Scully. Just wanted to wish you a safe flight."

"Thank you, sir. And don’t worry – I’ll keep an eye on him."

"I’m counting on it, Scully – and I owe you."

 _Rustling again. Humorous tone in voice._ "I don’t think I like it when you and Scully are getting along so well, Walter."

"Get over it, Fox."

 _Laughter._ "Whoops. They’re calling our flight. Scully's going to be pissed - she didn't get to finish her bagel. I’ll call you this evening after we get settled."

"Safe flight, Fox. I’ll talk to you tonight."

* * *

**February 10, 1998, Late Evening**

**Chaney, Texas**

 

FROM: monsterboy@hotmail.com

TO: surlyone@hotmail.com

RE: On the Road Again

Well, we’re here in Vampire Central, safe and sound – mostly safe, at any rate. I had a slight altercation with a runaway RV, but I’ll tell you more about that in my official report. No damage, so you can start breathing again – just got incredibly dirty. Nothing that a shower didn’t cure.

I tried calling you at home tonight but no answer, so you must be in one of those interminable budget and planning meetings. I hope that you at least got something to eat out of it this time – God! You’ve rubbed off on me and I’m starting to obsess about _your_ eating habits. In any case, eat, rest, and conserve your strength. With any luck, I’ll be home by the weekend and you’ll need it.

You will have guessed from the above remarks that I am feeling a lot better. A hell of a lot better, and definitely more relaxed. Yes, me and Mr. Hand have finally gotten reacquainted in the shower mentioned above and it was good for both of us, thank you very much. Who would have thought that just being able to jack off would cause such relief? Okay, don’t say it. You know I’m talking about mental relief here, and I think you also know who figured prominently in my thoughts at the time. Oh, and I thought about you, too, once or twice.

Okay, I can just hear the A.D. voice saying, "Well, I’m glad to know that you are making such efficient use of the taxpayers’ dollars, but what about the case, Mulder?" Fear not, O Demanding One; I have already emailed my preliminary notes to your official account so you will be able to feast your eyes on my pearls of wisdom when you check your mail in the office. Scully’s working on the second autopsy as I speak and you will be hearing from her shortly as well.

Speaking of G-woman, it appears that she has fallen for the local peace officer, Sheriff Bucktooth. He’s okay as far as local talent goes, although I’m starting to worry about Scully’s dental fixation. First an orthodontist, now Bucky Beaver. Okay, okay, I can hear you ordering me to make nice with the local talent and I am. I promise. Cross my heart.

Scully ordered a pizza and it’s calling my name from the other room, so I’ll say goodnight. Sleep well, lover.

FWM

 

FROM: gwoman@hotmail.com

TO: surlyone@hotmail.com

RE: Monster Boy

As promised, I’m keeping an eye on your boy while we’re out here, and I have to warn you right now – it’s going to cost you, sir. The deluxe size box of chocolates at this point. And I am beginning to understand your attraction to your hobby in regards to the aforementioned subject. If Mulder has used up all my quarters on the "Magic Fingers" bed, I _will_ be taking my hairbrush to him. I promise not to do any permanent damage.

In regard to our investigation, I have completed my first autopsy and the report is in your official mailbox. Yes, I said my first. Mulder has determined that there is a second victim of this "vampire" and I am now preparing to do my second autopsy of the evening (while Mulder eats my pizza). I will send a copy of my findings to you as soon as they are completed.

DS

 

**February 10, 1998, Late Evening**

**Washington, DC**

 

FROM: surlyone@hotmail.com

TO: monsterboy@hotmail.com

RE: Playing nice

Glad to know that you have arrived safely and that all working parts are fully functional. I’ll start increasing my vitamin intake in the morning.

BTW, you and I are going to have a serious discussion regarding your choice of account names. Believe me, I understand the need to have personal accounts separate from our work ones, but - surlyone? You haven’t begun to see surly, _boy._

A word of caution – if you value your anatomy, hands off Scully’s quarters. The woman sounds desperate. And I’m already into her for a deluxe box of chocolates – do _not_ up the ante.

Regarding this weekend – don’t push it, babe. Just being together is enough for me, and Dr. Malone has some suggestions for alternate things to try if you’re "up" to it.

Take care, Fox. Sweet dreams.

WSS

 

* * *

**February 11, 1998, 7:45 a.m.  
Dallas-Ft. Worth, Texas**

 

"Sir, if you’ll just give me a minute to explain…yes, sir, I did put a stake through him but – I understand that the family may sue, but he was a _vampire_."

"I don’t care if he was Dracula incarnate and had the business card to prove it. There are procedures, Agent Mulder, and standard FBI procedure does not include putting a stake through the perpetrator’s heart. You have heard of due process, haven’t you? Of innocent until proven guilty?"

"Sir, the man drugged my pizza and attacked me in my hotel room and you’re worried about due process? A hell of a lot of good that would have done me if Scully hadn’t figured it out and come back right then!"

" _Agent Mulder_. While I appreciate that your life was endangered and I am gratified that Agent Scully was able to rescue you, it still doesn’t mean that you can pound a piece of wood through a man’s chest. I’ll be expecting both of your reports in an hour."

Mulder winced at the loud click on the other end of the phone and looked at his partner. "I think he took that well, don’t you?"

Scully cleared her throat. "He’ll be expecting us to email him our official report in an hour."

"I’m not worried since I plan on telling him what I saw."

"And so do I."

_Exchanged looks. Mulder starts to get worried._

* * *

**February 11, 1998, Early Evening  
Chaney, Texas**

 

"Hi, babe. Are you okay?"

"Walter, I’ve got to tell you that your ability to compartmentalize is starting to scare me. Where is the irate boss who chewed my ass this morning?"

"Back at the office, where he belongs. I’m at home now, and I’m worried about my lover."

"I’m fine, Walter. I was a little woozy from the drugs, but I’m okay now."

"When does your flight get in?"

"Um – well, actually, we’re back in Chaney. There’s been a development."

"What kind of development?"

"The body’s missing." _Smug tone to voice._

" **What?** "

"The body? Ronnie Strickland? The guy with the stake through his heart? He got up and walked out of the morgue – after attacking the coroner. So what do you think now?"

"I think you need to work on your aim if you’re going to go up against any more vampires."

"Ah-ha! Then you agree that this _does_ sound like a vampire!"

"Fox, don’t _even_ go there tonight. So what’s the plan now?"

"We’re going to go check out a couple things and talk to the sheriff."

"Bucky Beaver?"

 _Snicker._ "Don’t let Scully hear you call him that. Yeah. He may have some ideas where these vampires hang out."

"Fox, promise me that you’re _not_ going to come home with a penchant for human blood and a peculiar habit of hanging upside down from the ceiling."

"Walter, you really _do_ care."

"No, I just had my ceiling repainted."

"Bastard. Just for that, I’m _not_ going to ask you what you’re wearing."

"What a relief. I told you last time that I don’t do cheesy phone sex."

"Yeah, but I figured you might be desperate enough by now to have forgotten that."

"Not me. I have a mind like a steel trap." _Pause. Suspicion of a grin._ "What’s the matter, babe? Horny?"

"Hey! I haven’t had sex for over a month!"

"What about last night?"

"One masturbatory experience hardly counts."

"You were pretty excited about it last night."

"That was last night. I’m ready to conquer other frontiers, scale new heights –"

"You’re desperate to get off."

"That, too." _Smug, sexy voice._ "Can I help it if your voice is so damn sexy that it turns me on?"

 _Dryly._ "Try another line, Fox."

"I’m serious. I feel your voice moving over me like rich chocolate or that really dark and soft velvet, and it makes my whole body tingle."

 _Sound of shifting body._ "You make a habit of pouring chocolate over yourself?"

"I could – if you’re there to clean me up."

 _Clearing of throat._ "Aren’t you supposed to be going to talk to that sheriff?"

"I’m waiting for Scully. She’s getting a shower and changing." _Sigh._ "And unless you cooperate, I’m going to need a shower, too. A cold one."

 _Ghost of a chuckle._ "Poor babe."

 _Grinding of teeth._ "Walter, I’m going to hang up on you. Loudly."

"Fox." _Smoky, deep voice. Control voice. Dom voice._

 _Swallow._ "Sir?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Um – sweats."

"Good. Lock the doors – including the connecting one."

 _Quickened breathing._ "They’re locked."

"Have you got any lubricant?"

"Um – no. I didn’t think I’d need any." _Rummaging noises._ "I found some hand lotion."

"Good enough. Put it on the nightstand."

"Done, sir."

"Take off your shirt and your shoes and socks and lay down on the bed."

 _Rustling noises._ "Ready."

"Put the phone in your left hand. Wet the thumb and forefinger of your right hand and roll your left nipple between them."

"Hard or soft?"

_"At your discretion, boy. Whatever feels good to you." Listening to slight moaning noise. "Now the other one." Listening pause. "Are you hot, Fox?"_

_Groaning voice._ "God, yes."

"Your nipples are sticking up in hard nubs aching to be licked and sucked, aren’t they?" _More moaning._ "That’s it, Fox. Now, what are you wearing under those sweat pants?"

"Um – " _Frantically trying to regain some mental faculties._ "Nothing."

"Very clever of you. Put your hand flat on your belly and slide it down under the waistband. Don’t touch your cock yet, just your balls."

 _A soft groan._ "Yes, sir."

"Play with them, Fox. I want to hear you moaning with pleasure."

 _Strained voice._ "Oh, God – Walter…"

"Lose the pants, Fox." _Sounds of pants being hastily shucked._ "Slick up your hand and take hold of your cock. Slowly, Fox. Up and down. Don’t come till I tell you that you can. Understand me?"

"Yes, s-sir." _Gasping breath._

"Good." _Listening pause._ "I can just picture how you look now, Fox. You always look so beautiful like this: aroused, sexy, your skin all flushed with passion. You must be biting your lip – I don’t hear any of those hot noises you make. I want to hear them, Fox."

"But Scully – "

"I didn’t ask about Scully, did I?"

"N-no, sir."

"Well? I’m waiting, boy." _Delicious sounds of arousal._ "That’s better. Faster now, Fox." _Sound of slick movement. "_ Good. Very good. Are you close, Fox?"

"God, yes! I’m so close…"

"Would you like me to let you come?"

"Please…oh, please…"

"All right, boy. You’ve done very well. You may come." _Sounds of ecstasy, a shouted name, gasping breaths gradually easing into a heartfelt sigh._ "Was it good, Fox?"

 _Deep breath of satisfaction._ "Incredible. Thank you, Walter."

 _Soft chuckle._ "You’re welcome, babe. Now, get cleaned up and go get your vampire. Then come back home to me."

"Yes, sir. I love you, Walter."

"Love you, too, babe." _Click of phone and dial tone._

 _Sound of hesitant tapping on the door._ "Mulder? Are you all right?"

_Embarrassed and muffled groan from underneath pillow._

* * *

**February 13, 1998, 9 a.m.**   
**Washington, DC**

 

_Silence. Pages turning. Cleared throat. Nervous shuffling of two bodies in two chairs._

"Agents?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny Agent Scully's version of events."

"Anyway, I was drugged."


	23. My Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner renew their personal relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Notes: Xanthe, Sub!Walter is for you, and fellow-Slashx List Sibs should recognize several of the "things we never get tired of". 
> 
> SCHMOOP ALERT: This chapter has been rated a 9 on a Schmoop scale of 1-10. If you survived the Christmas chapter without overloading, you should be okay. However, if the chapter quote makes you gag, you’re in real trouble. BTW, the chapter quote is from "Valentine" by Jim Brickman and Jack Kugell.

_All of my life_  
_All you give to me._  
 _You’ve opened my eyes_  
 _And shown me how to love unselfishly._  
 _I’ve dreamed of this a thousand times before_  
 _But in my dreams I couldn’t love you more._  
 _I will give you my heart_  
 _Until the end of time._  
 _You’re all I need, my love, my Valentine._

 

Mulder was in a panic. Walter Skinner was expecting him for the weekend, and Mulder didn't know what to do.

It had nothing to do with his most recent case, although the AD had raked both Mulder and his partner over the coals earlier that day, dwelling with particular fondness on why one should always have one's partner at one's back when facing an unknown situation and an escaped criminal. It had been useless to argue that Scully had _wanted_ him to ditch her in this case. And Scully, who had apparently spent the night sleeping in a cemetery, was not in a particularly good frame of mind to support him.

No, Mulder wasn't worried that Skinner would continue to lecture him over the weekend. Skinner had an almost eerie ability to separate all the facets of their relationship into neat compartments that were not permitted to overlap: the stern-but-fair AD in the office, the passionate lover out of the office, and the consummate Dom at the Club. Mulder envied him this ability - it was a lot harder for him to turn off one mode and turn on another.

And it wasn't the fact that they were almost certainly going to resume their sexual relationship again this weekend that had Mulder pacing the floor and breaking into a cold sweat. After all, Mulder was the one who had verbally initiated the weekend's plan, and he had discussed it over the phone with Dr. Malone. He was ready to deal with his anxieties - and horny as hell.

No, it wasn't what had happened or what was going to happen that had his stomach tied in knots. It was what Saturday was. V-day. And he hadn't the slightest clue what to do.

This had never been a problem in the past. On the rare occasions when he had been "involved" when The Day rolled around, he had simply followed the tried-and-true formula and had bestowed flowers and candy. More recently, the day had been one that he ignored, comfortable in the knowledge that Scully would put a bullet in his other shoulder if he recognized The Day in any way other than professionally.

But now he was involved for the first time in his life with another man and he hadn't the slightest idea what expectations Walter Skinner might or might not have regarding The Day. Flowers and candy just didn't seem appropriate and anything else he could think of seemed tacky. And then there was the question of whether Skinner had realized what Saturday was and whether he would reciprocate. If Skinner did and Mulder didn't he would feel horrible, and if Mulder did and Skinner didn't he would feel embarrassed. And it wasn't like there was anyone that he could talk to: Scully had pointedly stated when she left the office that afternoon that she didn't want to hear from him all weekend short of a National Disaster - and he didn't think that this qualified. The guys had been a little nervous around him the last time he was over at the LGM Headquarters - well, Frohike hadn't been, but then hardly anything seemed to bother him - and he couldn't see discussing this problem with them. He had tried to call Sean earlier but his sub friend had been out, so he had left a message and started pacing.

A knock on the door stirred him out of his frantic thoughts and he threw open the door in relief when he saw that it was Sean and Mason outside.

"Thank God!" He practically dragged Sean into the apartment. "I've got a hell of a problem. Oh - sorry, sir," he said quickly to Mason. "Would you like something to drink? Beer? Iced Tea?" Both accepted tea and Sean followed him into the kitchen.

"All right, Mulder. Give. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Sean, you know that this is all new to me - I haven’t got the faintest idea what to do about tomorrow. Do guys even _care_ about gifts? Is Walter expecting something from me? And what in _hell_ do I get him?"

Sean stared for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Mulder, only you could make Valentine's Day sound like a National Crisis!"

"That isn't the sort of assistance I was hoping to get from you," Mulder said sourly. "So do you and Geoff do anything for V-Day?" At Sean's grin, he added, "Anything you can share publicly?" Sean's eyes danced and Mulder amended again, "Okay, you exhibitionist, anything that _Walter and I_ could possibly share publicly."

Sean picked up his glass of tea. "Well, Geoff and I are totally Out so there are some things we feel comfortable doing that you and Walter wouldn't be able to do. Sometime we go out for dinner and dancing, or to one of the gay nightclubs. Once Geoff bought tickets for a performance at Lincoln Center."

Mulder’s eyes lit up. "Tickets – yeah! That’s it!" He hurried back into the living room, logged onto his mail account and sent a quick email to Frohike. Then he turned back to his guests. "Sorry," he apologized to Mason. "This whole Valentine’s day thing has been driving me crazy."

Mason smiled. "That’s all right. I think it’s great that you care so much about Walter." He studied Mulder as he took a sip of his tea. "So, how are you doing, Mulder?"

Mulder shrugged. "Pretty good, sir. I had a little setback last week, but I’ve been seeing Kate Malone weekly and she seems to think I’m making good progress." He smiled. "In fact, she’s given me the go-ahead for this weekend."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "Ah, a little reunion party?"

Mulder flushed a little. "Yes, sir."

"Then we won't hold you up - you must be anxious to be on your way." He finished his tea and collected Sean with a glance. Mulder walked them to the door and Mason paused in the open doorway to reach over to ruffle Mulder's hair. "Good luck this weekend. And come back to the Club soon, boy. We miss you."

Unexpectedly, Mulder's throat felt tight. "Thank you, sir. I will."

Sean gave Mulder a thumb's up signal and followed Mason down the hallway. Mulder stood in the doorway, watching them as they headed for the elevator, noting the way that Mason shortened his stride so that the shorter man could keep pace with him, the way that Sean affectionately wrapped his arm around Mason's waist as they stood in the elevator. He wondered, a little enviously, what it would be like to be so open about his relationship with Walter Skinner. Wondered if they would last as long as Sean and Mason had. Slowly he closed the door and stared at the wall of his apartment with unseeing eyes.

His email alert sounded, stirring him out of his wandering thoughts, and he found a reply from Frohike that read:

 

_Mulder - Can do, but it's going to cost you. F._

 

Mulder smiled, a sudden warmth filling him, and typed back a response:

 

_Frohike - Make the deal. Use the usual credit card number. Have a courier deliver them to AD Skinner's apartment tomorrow. Thanks - and I owe you. M._

 

The hell with the future, and the hell with what the rest of the world knew, Mulder thought with a sudden light-hearted feeling. Whistling happily, he grabbed his overnight bag and headed out the door.

* * *

Mulder unlocked the door and found the apartment in total darkness. He wasn’t surprised – it was late and Skinner wasn’t expecting him till the next morning. With a smile, he quietly headed upstairs to check on the other man.

The bedroom was in darkness, lit only by moonlight. The soft glow reflected off his lover’s head, making Skinner appear to float over the blackness of the covers. Skinner’s face, unshielded by his glasses and relaxed in sleep, looked soft and almost vulnerable, and drew Mulder like a siren call. He knelt by the bed for a long moment, studying the face that had become more familiar than his own, his eyes running down over the body outlined by the covers. A sudden thought made him frown – when was the last time he had seen that splendid body naked, touched those firm muscles, tasted the sweetness and saltiness of his flesh? It had to have been New Year’s weekend, at the Club, before Benett. Although Mulder had spent the week after his release from the hospital at Skinner’s apartment, as well as nearly every weekend since then, he suddenly realized that Skinner had been at least partially clothed around him the whole time. Even during their disastrous attempt to make love, Skinner had still been partially dressed when Mulder’s panic attack had disrupted everything. Mulder was suddenly overwhelmed by his need to see his lover’s naked body, to touch him, to possess him. He leaned forward to stroke his sleeping lover’s cheek and gently pressed a kiss on his lips.

Skinner was awakened by the knowledge that someone was in his bedroom and that someone was kissing him into wakefulness. Mulder, he thought sleepily, then surprise made his eyes pop open.

"Fox?"

"Shhh." He knew the soft voice of his lover but the tone was different. There was a quality to it that Skinner had never heard from Mulder, an underlying tone that took Skinner back many years. "No talking."

Skinner felt an involuntary shiver run up his backbone as his brain registered the words. It had been a long time since he had played bottom; even during the few times that he had been on the catching end with Mulder, Skinner had always been the one in control. Now Mulder was asking him to give that up, to turn it over to Mulder, to let him be in control this time. He could almost feel the younger man’s desire humming in the air between them, could sense his need for this reassurance. He caught Mulder's hand and lifted it to his cheek so that Mulder could feel the movement when he nodded his head. He could almost see the answering smile light up the darkness.

"Good. Now put your hands behind your head and close your eyes."

Skinner obeyed, and found his mind and body instinctively recalled how to switch awareness from the sense of sight to those of sound and touch. Some things you never forgot, he thought with an inward smile. He laid back and waited to see what Mulder would do on his first attempt at topping.

Mulder caressed Skinner’s head with his hands, moving over his face and down his neck, followed by his lips as if he was mapping his lover’s body. Mulder smiled to himself and thought that he could recognize this man in the dark from touch and scent alone. He pulled back the covers and shifted his body up to the bed, kneeling beside the quiescent form, feeling the waves of heat and arousal pouring off him. Skinner was so good at this, he thought with amusement. He was surprised at how readily the man had switched to the bottom role for him, and was startled by the sudden wave of jealousy that flared in him at the thought of Skinner playing bottom to someone else, like Geoffrey Mason. This man belonged to _him_ , he thought fiercely, and he was determined to prove it.

His hands busied themselves unbuttoning and removing Skinner’s pajama top, and his mouth followed as he kissed and licked and nipped at every inch of Skinner’s chest. He paid special attention to the nipples, licking them and then blowing gently across their surface until they stood up in stiff peaks. He sucked one of the nipples into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth and then caressing it with his tongue. Skinner gasped and bit back a groan, and Mulder smiled in satisfaction, then moved to the other nipple. Once he had reduced the other man to breathless gasps, he kissed and licked his way down Skinner’s flat abdomen. He slipped off the pajama bottoms, ignoring the erection as he worked his way down Skinner’s legs, lingering on the feet as he caressed and sucked each toe.

"Roll over," he ordered, and Skinner obeyed silently, eyes still closed. Mulder started again, moving upward from the feet, mapping every inch of skin with fingers and lips. He could feel the trembling in the body lying silently beneath him and it was hotter than he could ever have imagined, and he felt his clothes becoming uncomfortably tight. He wondered if this was how Skinner felt when he worked Mulder and, for a moment, experienced a disorienting moment when he was inside his lover's head, watching Skinner watching him. He drew a shaky breath, dispelling the illusion, and tried to determine what he wanted to do next.

"On your knees, head and shoulders down."

Skinner shifted, his ass rising up into the air, and Mulder caught his breath at the sight. He removed his own shirt and moved around on the bed to kneel between his lover's legs. His hands caressed the skin, kneading it, while his mouth traced its way down the spine, licking and nipping at the skin. His hands parted the firm cheeks while his mouth moved downward, tonguing the sensitive area behind Skinner's balls, then moving upward to circle the puckered opening.

"God!" Skinner groaned involuntarily and Mulder stopped, swatting one cheek.

"Hush."

He heard the barely voiced growl and grinned, knowing he would pay for this when Skinner regained control, but right now he couldn't care less. He felt Skinner settle back into sub mode and returned to his disturbed activity.

Slowly, sensually, he circled his tongue over his lover's anus, reveling in the involuntary puckering as he teased and toyed with it. He pushed the barest tip of his tongue in, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nerve endings until Skinner was squirming and gasping under him, trying to force him deeper. Legs shifted under him, spreading wider to give him full access, and he trailed his mouth down to play with the heavy balls before moving back up. He spread the cheeks even more with his hands and dove in, thrusting deeply with his tongue, hearing and ignoring the moan of his lover. In and out he thrust, mimicking the fucking he intended to do later, feeling the clenching of the sphincter muscle as the body rocked beneath him.

He pulled out completely, hearing the complaining moan, and grinned. Walter was so hot, so close, but Mulder had no intention of ending his torment so soon. He moved his mouth over the tight ass cheeks, sucking in suddenly to leave a mark on the smooth skin. Skinner bit back a gasp and Mulder could almost swear that he heard a muttered curse. He nearly laughed out loud - oh yeah, he was in for a hell of a retribution when Skinner got his hands on him. But first he intended to thoroughly wear out the other man.

With a mocking kiss on the purpling mark, he got off the bed. "Don't move," he said warningly. "Don't open your eyes or touch yourself."

Skinner swallowed hard, amusement and frustration filling him in equal parts as he heard Mulder leave the room and head down the stairs. Hell, he had done this to Mulder himself at the Club. But who would have thought that Mulder would be quick enough to pick up that trick? Not that he was particularly worried about his ability to put Mulder back in place after this little excursion into top territory. Mulder was doing fine but he was an amateur compared to Skinner. He smiled and considered just exactly what he would do to his sub when he got him back in collar and cuffs. Mulder was going to find out that payback was a bitch.

He heard the younger man return to the room and set something down on the nightstand, and then there was the unmistakable sound of clothes being shed. Ah, now he was getting down to the heart of the matter. Skinner heard the popping sound of a bottle cap being removed and then a body settled on the bed and slid up under him. He had an idea of what Mulder had in mind and was almost ready for it when Mulder took his cock in his mouth and let the cold beer wash over it. He gasped but didn't quite wince. Mulder continued to lick and suck while his hand caressed Skinner's ass. From somewhere he had produced lube and a slick finger penetrated the opening that he had been rimming earlier, thrusting in and out, deliberately avoiding the sensitive gland inside. Skinner was moaning almost constantly now from the double stimulation, rocking between the mouth sucking his cock and the fingers thrusting into his ass. The noises that he was making were so hot, and the inflamed look on his face was so unlike his normal in-control expression, that Mulder found himself losing his grip on his own control.

Mulder released the cock in his mouth and slid down the bed to kneel behind Skinner. He rolled on a condom and positioned himself so that the tip of his erection was just pressing against the entrance to Skinner's body. He pulled Skinner up onto his hands and knees, moving forward in one smooth thrust at the same time, and they both groaned at the sensation as Mulder's cock completely filled his lover's body. Mulder draped himself across the strong back under him, kissing the nape of the neck as his hands slid around to caress the firm chest and tweak a nipple. He leaned closer to his lover's ear and murmured in it, "I want you to fuck yourself on me."

With a roar, Skinner surged forward and then back again, impaling himself on Mulder's cock. Mulder gasped, grabbed onto the pistoning hips, and held on for dear life. Big mistake, he thought with what remained of his brain, but he was laughing at the same time from the wildness of it all. God, they were both going to be sore as hell in the morning! Skinner was grunting and gasping, thrusting again and again, rubbing his own prostate with every thrust. Mulder felt as if his whole body was on fire, burning everywhere their bodies touched. He was being consumed by the flame but it was more glorious than anything he had ever imagined. He felt himself sliding in and out of the hot channel surrounding him, felt the shaking begin in the body below him, and then Skinner was coming hard, crying out in release. That was all it took, and Mulder felt the unbearable tension explode within him, saw the lightening dancing behind his eyes, and then he was coming and coming until the darkness reached up and enfolded him in blessed release.

When he came back to reality, he found himself lying on Skinner's chest, one big hand caressing his back soothingly. He groaned and lifted his head, and met warm brown eyes that smiled back at him.

"Welcome back."

"Shit," Mulder murmured, dropping his head back onto Skinner's chest. "I think you broke something that time."

A rumble of soft laughter beneath him. "Serves you right. First rule of topping - never relinquish control once you have it."

Mulder grinned and turned his head to press a kiss against the skin under his cheek. "Guess I'm just a natural bottom."

Skinner lifted his hand to caress Mulder's cheek, his eyes studying the other man's face intently. "You okay?"

Mulder propped his chin on Skinner's chest and met his eyes evenly. "Yeah," he said softly. "Thanks, big guy."

"The pleasure was at least fifty percent mine." Mulder snorted and moved up slightly to exchange a long, loving kiss with Skinner. "So - no more ghosts?"

"All gone," Mulder said softly and kissed him again. Then he snuggled comfortably against Skinner's shoulder and closed his eyes, drifting into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

Skinner awakened slowly from a wonderfully erotic dream in which he had been drowning in sensation, Mulder moving over him, his face alight with pleasure. He had been awakened by a persistent buzzing that abruptly terminated, followed by a vitally warm and naked body rolling over to rest his head on Skinner's shoulder as a warm arm wrapped around his stomach and a long leg casually flung itself across his legs. There was an odd vibrating on his chest and he vaguely realized that it was someone humming. He breathed deeply, taking in the mixed scent of sex and Mulder, and opened his eyes cautiously to peer down at the head on his chest.

"Fox? It's morning. And you're in my bed."

He felt the chuckle as well as heard it. "That's three for three, Walter. No wonder they made you an assistant director. And you are _not_ going into the office today, so you can just forget you heard that alarm."

He tried to absorb this information, gradually realizing that his dream had been real, while Mulder went back to humming as his fingers traced idle circles on Skinner's chest. "So you have other plans for today?" he asked in amusement.

"Definitely." An impish grin was focused on him. "I brought chocolate syrup with me."

Skinner chuckled, remembering their phone conversation, and rolled so that he was pinning the younger man under him. "For breakfast? You're even kinkier than I am."

Mulder snorted. "That's impossible. There are layers upon layers of kink in you that I have yet to uncover."

"Well, after all, I must maintain _some_ mystery." Skinner began nipping and sucking on the luscious neck stretched before him. Mulder tilted his head to give him more working room while spreading his legs so that Skinner could settle comfortably between them. Skinner captured his mouth for a long kiss, slowly building the fire between them. The previous night's activities notwithstanding, he was determined to take this slow and give Mulder plenty of opportunity to back out if he needed to do so. His mouth moved back down to Mulder’s neck, marking his favorite spot with satisfaction. Mulder grinned at the look on his face.

"You are so damn possessive, Walter. Why don’t you just brand me and get it over with?"

Skinner pretended to consider that idea, then shook his head. "No, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun." He licked at the mark and grinned back.

Mulder laughed. "You know that you’re crazy, don’t you?"

"Mmm, well, you’re the one in bed with me so what does that make _you_?"

"Horny." Mulder suddenly wrapped his legs around Skinner’s waist, pulling the other man in close, and smiled up at him provocatively. "Do me, big guy."

Skinner growled and fastened his lips on Mulder’s hungrily, kissing him until they were both breathless. "Be careful what you wish for, Fox."

Mulder looked up at him, dazed. "Huh?"

Skinner laughed and dove back in for another kiss. He loved it when Mulder became sex-stupid, his incredible intellect turned off by more primitive instincts, and set himself to generating those incredibly hot noises. Before long, he had Mulder writhing and gasping beneath his skillful mouth and hands. Feeling the telltale signs that Mulder was close, he released his lover’s cock and applied pressure to the base.

Mulder gasped and swore. "Bastard. This is payback for last night, isn’t it?"

Skinner shook his head, his eyes gleaming at Mulder. "Not yet. Believe me, _boy_ , you’ll know when the payback begins." He pushed Mulder’s knees towards his chest. "I just don’t think you’re ready for this to end yet." He dropped his head, nuzzling the sensitive area behind Mulder’s balls, and heard the gasp of pleasure with satisfaction. He pushed the knees back a little further, moving downward with his mouth.

"Oh, God, yes!" Mulder arched against the mouth teasing his asshole, almost sobbing with the pleasure of it. "Oh pleasepleaseplease…"

By the time Skinner slid home inside Mulder’s welcoming body, the younger man was nearly incoherent in his need and lust. He slid his legs down from Skinner’s shoulders, wrapping them around his lover’s waist to pull him deeper inside, moving upward to meet each thrust. How could he have forgotten how good this was, he wondered? Skinner’s body covering and filling him, his face taut with the effort to hold back his own orgasm while pleasuring his partner, both bodies slick with sweat as flesh slapped together. He heard the gasping sound that told him that Skinner was close and grasped his own cock, pulling at it hard and fast in time with their movements, and there was the familiar pressure building up within him until he thought the release might kill him. And then he was coming, screaming Skinner’s name, shooting over them both.

Skinner watched as his lover’s eyes rolled back in his head and felt the clenching of the internal muscles as Mulder’s climax hit, and it was enough to trigger his own. He thrust once, twice, shuddering in release and gasping Mulder’s name before he collapsed on his lover’s chest. He started to move off his exhausted lover but was halted by a soft voice.

"Stay."

He stayed, and lay there for a long time, trying to breath again while his heart rate dropped back to a normal rate, braced a little on his forearms to keep from crushing his lover completely. And it was sweeter than he had remembered: the feeling of the strong, slender body under him, the long runner’s legs still wrapped around his waist to hold him close, a gentle hand stroking his back leisurely while soft kisses covered his scalp. He turned his head and kissed the smooth skin under his cheek and then the soft, full lips.

"Welcome back, Fox."

* * *

Walter Skinner hummed to himself as he put dinner in the oven. He was content, deeply and profoundly content, more at peace with the world and himself than he had been at any time in his life. And the reason for this deep well of contentment lay sprawled on the couch, hair still damp from the shower, looking almost feline in repose, surfing the vast television wasteland.

"One hundred channels and nothing's on," said a grumbling voice as Mulder clicked off the television and tossed the control on the coffee table. He half-sat up and peered over the back of the couch. "Come here, you," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well, now I know where I rate," Skinner said with a mock growl as he obeyed. "Suitable for entertainment - when there's nothing good on TV."

"Walter, even _I_ can't screw all the time." Mulder pulled Skinner down on the couch and straddled his lap, nuzzling his neck.

"Couldn't prove it by me," Skinner commented, capturing the wandering hands. "Down, boy. Every part of my body is closed down for repair. Check back some time next week."

Mulder snickered and relaxed against Skinner's chest, tucking his head under his lover's chin. "That's one of the problems with this world - there's never a morphing healer around when you need him."

Skinner shifted so that he was lying down on the couch, Mulder's body stretched along his, and sighed with contentment. He had been telling Mulder the truth when he told him that he loved him for more than just the sex, that he could survive if they never had sex again. But he had to admit that he had missed it, had missed holding the long, lean body in his arms. Now that they were back together in all ways, it was more than he had dared to hope for and he was willing to do anything to keep it. He thought about his gift to Mulder, lying over on the desk, and briefly considered getting it but he was too content to move right now. It would keep till later.

They slept.

* * *

Skinner awakened at dusk, blinking his eyes and wondering what had disturbed his sleep. Mulder was still asleep on his chest, his breath stirring against Skinner's shirt and brushing his nipple, and - impossibly - Skinner felt the first faint stirrings of interest elsewhere. He laughed softly. The oven timer sounded again in the kitchen and he pushed gently at Mulder's shoulder. "Wake up, babe," he said softly. "I've got to get up and check on dinner."

Mulder blinked his eyes open and smiled at him, that rare and dazzling smile that never ceased to enchant Skinner. "Hi, you." He leaned in for a kiss.

"Up, Fox."

"Mmm. I certainly am."

Skinner snorted. "Mink." He disengaged himself and went into the kitchen while Mulder yawned and stretched, then headed down the hallway to the bathroom.

"What smells so good?" he asked, detouring into the kitchen on his way back.

"Lasagna." Satisfied with the status of dinner, he closed the oven. "It'll be ready in about thirty minutes. Set the table, will you, while I get the garlic bread ready."

Skinner was interrupted by a knock on the door and, opening it, was surprised to see a courier there with a large envelope. He signed for it and closed the door, then studied the envelope but he didn’t recognize the handwriting. Cautiously, he opened it and found two envelopes inside, one blank and one addressed to Mulder. He carried them both into the dining room.

"Fox, a courier just brought this – "

Mulder took the envelopes eagerly, opening the one addressed to him and scanning it quickly. A big grin broke out over his face.

"Good news?" Skinner asked dryly, wondering why Mulder was receiving hand-delivered mail here and almost afraid of the answer.

"The best." Mulder held out the other envelope. "Happy Valentine’s day, Walter."

Skinner smiled as he took the envelope. "I never figured you for the sentimental type, Fox."

"I live to surprise you, big guy. Go on, open it."

Skinner shook his head and set down the envelope. "First I want to get your gift."

"You _are_ my gift," Mulder said with a grin, wrapping his arms around Skinner and nuzzling the base of his throat.

"Stop it," Skinner growled, untangling himself, "or you’ll end up on your back with your feet in the air."

Mulder grinned at him, eyes glinting with mischief. "And that’s supposed to be a deterrent?"

Skinner pounced. A long while later, Mulder emerged from his embrace with a shaky chuckle. "God, Walter, you are _so_ easy!"

Skinner smiled at him. "Said the pot."

Mulder snorted and pushed against Skinner’s chest. "Down, Simba. I want you to see your present."

Skinner growled good-naturedly and released Mulder, then fetched a large envelope from the desk and held it out to him, settling down on the couch to watch Mulder open it.

Mulder pulled out three smaller envelopes, each numbered, and grinned at Skinner. "You are so organized." He opened the first envelope and found airline tickets on the Bureau account and an itinerary for a Law Enforcement conference in London. He groaned. "Walter, you didn’t!"

"I did," Skinner said, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "They asked for you to give a presentation, too. The details are all there and you have two months to prepare. Scully’s going, too, and she’ll be giving a presentation as well."

"Gee, you shouldn’t have," Mulder said sarcastically. He hated these conferences, although he actually didn’t mind giving the lecture. It was the socializing with his fellow law enforcement officials and the question-and-answer sessions that drove him crazy.

"O ye of little faith," Skinner said tranquilly. "Open the second envelope."

Mulder did and found another round-trip airline ticket, this one not on the Bureau account, from London to Athens, Greece. He looked at Skinner, puzzled, but the man only smiled and indicated for him to open the third envelope. Inside that one was a ferry ticket to the island of Corfu and confirmation of the reservation of a private bungalow on the island. He looked at Skinner, stunned. "Walter?"

Skinner smiled. "I thought you could use a vacation – which has been filed and approved, by the way – and I knew that the only way to make you take one was if someone went with you. The cover story is that you’re staying in England the week after the conference to meet old Oxford friends. I’ll be flying directly to Athens and I’ll meet you there, and we’ll go over to the island together. You'll like Corfu - and I sincerely doubt that we'll run into anyone we know there."

Mulder knee-walked down the couch to Skinner and straddled his lap, kissing him softly. "You romantic softie, you."

"Mmm-hmmm." Skinner returned the kiss. "I just know the benefit of keeping you happy and relaxed." Mulder dropped his head to Skinner’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck. "Stop that, or I really will ravish you this time."

Mulder chuckled. "Promises, promises." He picked up the envelope he had given Skinner and handed it to him. "Open yours now."

Skinner obediently opened the envelope and pulled out a set of tickets. His jaw nearly dropped. "The Final Four! Fox – how – where – "

Mulder smiled smugly. "I asked Frohike – he has sources everywhere."

"They must have cost you a fortune!"

"And a trip to Greece didn’t? Beside, you’re worth it, big guy. I've also got adjoining rooms reserved for the weekend." He found himself ruthlessly silenced and, when Skinner finally released him, gasped for breath. "So I take it you like them?"

"Oh, yeah. Now I just have to figure out whom I’m going to take with me. I wonder if Scully likes basketball…or maybe Frohike. After all, he’s the one who got the tickets – " He laughingly fended off his outraged lover’s pummeling. 

* * *

Scully answered the phone in the office on Monday morning, wondering where her partner was that morning. "Scully."

"Agent Scully, it's Kim. Just wanted to let you know that Assistant Director Skinner is running a little late today, so I need to reschedule your meeting."

"I hope nothing happened - car trouble, accident - " Her voice trailed off, expectantly. Although Kim had not indicated in any way that she knew what was going on, Scully had the feeling that Skinner's administrative assistant knew more than her boss would be comfortable that she knew about his love life. Kim hadn't asked, and Scully hadn't asked, but she knew that Kim was devoted to her boss.

"I don't think so. He was smiling. And humming."

"Humming?" The picture of Skinner humming boggled her mind.

"Will 2 p.m. fit your schedules?"

Scully pulled up her schedule and Mulder's on the computer, then checked Mulder's paper calendar - he hated entering anything on the new calendar system. "Looks good for both of us."

"Fine. Give my best to Agent Mulder when he gets in."

Scully hung up the phone and caught a faint sound coming down the hallway. Humming. She grinned.

The door opened. "Good morning, Scully." Mulder hung his coat on the hook and walked over to his desk.

"Kim just called to reschedule our department meeting for 2 p.m. Seems AD Skinner was running a little late this morning." Was she imagining it, or was the tip of his ear turning red?

"Fine." He flipped open his calendar and made a note, then sat down at his desk and picked up a file.

Scully studied him with a twinkle in her eyes. "You look - different this morning."

Mulder looked up, startled, and blushed. "Um - "

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you got laid this weekend."

He grinned at her, a little sheepishly. "Yeah. Several times."

"Stud."

"Thank you."

"Egotist," she teased with a laugh. "How do you know I'm talking about you and not the S.O.? After all, _he's_ got to do all the work. _You_ just lie back and think of England."

Mulder snorted. "So that's how you get what's-his-name to keep coming back."

Scully laughed, looking mischievous. "And coming and…"

"You'll have to share your techniques with me."

"I'll lend you my Cosmo magazines."

"And what makes you think that I'm the one thinking of England?"

Scully snorted. "Give it up, Mulder. You practically have 'bottom' tattooed on your forehead." She grinned and Mulder chuckled. "Seriously, Mulder," she said, crossing to perch on the corner of his desk. "Congratulations. I know this was a big recovery step. I'm happy for you."

He flushed but said quietly, "Thanks. Now I know why you're my best friend." He picked up the file and spread it open on his desk. "Have you seen this?" And soon they were into a discussion of the latest potential X-file.

Skinner listened to their presentation of the case at their 2 p.m. meeting, every inch the Assistant Director. He asked specific questions regarding the validity of the case before finally signing off on a 302 destined to take the two agents out of town again. There was no hint of emotion other than an ironical request that the two agents try not to lose any more Bureau equipment or do anything to increase the health care premiums. Scully was impressed. Mulder grinned, knowing both gibes were aimed at him, and promised to do his best.

Skinner nodded dismissal. "You have an appointment with Dr. Malone this afternoon?" he asked Mulder as the younger man stood up, and Mulder nodded. "Good. Kim will start on your travel vouchers." As they went out the door, Skinner's head was bent over the next file but Scully was certain that she caught a brief, appraising glance directed at Mulder's back. Skinner was such a mother hen, she thought with a grin.

And when they got back to their offices, she thought she would die laughing. There, sitting on Mulder's desk, was a large floral arrangement. Mulder stood staring at it in dumb surprise, then pulled out the card and read it: "Fox, thank you for a wonderful weekend. W." His mouth twitched. "I'm going to kill him." Then he glared over at Scully. "And then you."

She managed to get her laughter under control, wiping her eyes. "Actually, I think - I think it's - sweet - " Then she collapsed in her chair and put her head down on her desk, laughing.

* * *

Kate Malone looked Mulder over appraisingly as they settled into the chairs in her office. "Is my radar wrong, or have you taken a significant step forward?"

"Kate, when has your radar ever been wrong?" Mulder said with a grin. "Yes, Walter and I had sex this past weekend. Several times. And yes, it involved anal intercourse, and yes, I was on the receiving end."

She chuckled. "Mulder, sometimes you are so forthright it takes my breath away. Makes up for the times when you're so tight-lipped that I have to take a crowbar to your jaw. So, how was it?"

"It was good - hell, it was great. I'd forgotten how it was with Walter."

She nodded. "You've been trying to forget the bad; it's normal that your mind would also shut off the good. Did you initiate or did Walter?"

"I did. Walter keeps his promises." He grinned, his eyes green and mischievous. "Although I think he's been tempted to just knock me down and ravage me."

Kate tilted her head, appraising him. "Something happened that threw you a little. You want to talk about it?"

Mulder sighed. "We were wrestling a little, just fooling around, and he grabbed my wrists. I panicked for a minute - he released me immediately, and apologized, but I don't want him to have to worry that he's going to do something to freak me out."

"Mulder, it's only to be expected that there'll be some lingering trauma. You know your stuff; you know that there are going to be setbacks. Two steps forward and one-step back. But you've got a number of things going for you, not the least of which is Walter's patience and love for you." As his eyes dropped to study his hands, she said, "You are still having problems with that, aren't you?" He was silent and she sighed. "Do I need to get out that crowbar? Do you doubt that he loves you?"

"No."

"Do you doubt that you love him?"

"No."

"Talk to me, Mulder. What is the problem?"

"Bad things happen to people who love me," he muttered.

"Mulder, we've been through this before. Bad things happen to people, period. Not because they love you, not because you fail them in some way, and not because _you_ are bad. Things just happen. And you have two choices: you can hide away in your apartment and refuse to get involved in life, or you can take a chance and enjoy whatever happiness you can get. You took a big step this weekend, a scary step and think what happened, how good it was. I have to tell you, Mulder, that I am extremely proud of you for that. In the past you have had a tendency to head for the hills when anything good has happened to you. You should be very, very proud of yourself."

Mulder's face flushed a little, but he straightened from his slumped position. "Yeah. I am."

"Damn straight. And I want you to be sure to pick something from your rewards list and celebrate your victory."

"Do I get a star on my report card to take home to Walter?" he asked mockingly.

"Smart ass." She snorted and he laughed. "I want you to listen to what you just said - to take home to Walter. Why do you think you said that?"

He shrugged. "It was just an off-the-cuff remark."

"Mulder. Don't you dare bullshit me."

He sighed. "Okay, okay. I guess that I know that _home_ , real home, for me, is Walter's place. Which makes me - I mean, Christ, he didn't ask for this. He shouldn't have had to pick up the pieces of Fox Mulder and put them back together again. He shouldn't have to risk his career, his reputation. And what is he getting out of it? He hasn't even gotten sex for the last six weeks. He deserves so much more than - "

"Fox, don't you say it."

He paused, twisting his lips ruefully. "Okay, I won't say that he deserves more than a fucked up mess like me - " She laughed, shaking her head " - but he does. Sometimes I think I should just take off, go somewhere where I won't be screwing up the lives of those I love."`

"And why don't you?"

"Because Walter and Scully would just hunt me down and chew hunks out of my ass."

"And?"

He drew a deep breath and said, lowly, "Because I don't want to go."

"And what do you want, Mulder?"

"I want to be worthy of their love." He said it simply, from his heart, and Kate felt a silent shout of victory inside of her. Finally. At last.

* * *

Mulder entered the apartment carrying the floral arrangement and followed the aroma of baked chicken to the kitchen. He set the arrangement down pointedly on the table and then leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

Skinner looked up from his cooking, amused. "Something wrong, Fox?" he asked mildly.

"Asshole." But he grinned as he said it.

"Proper etiquette dictates that a gentleman should follow up with a token of appreciation - "

"I don't think Emily Post had our situation in mind." Mulder folded his arms around Skinner's waist and pressed a kiss on the nape of his neck. "Now Cosmo may cover that - "

"Cosmo?" Skinner turned and kissed him.

"Yeah. Scully's lending me hers. You know, 'How to drive your man wild in bed', that sort of thing."

Skinner chuckled. "I'd tell you that you're doing fine on your own, but you're pretty cocky tonight. No pun intended." Mulder snorted. "So, what did Dr. Kate have to say?"

"She's proud of me, and I'm supposed to pick something from my rewards list to celebrate." Mulder nipped at Skinner's neck.

"And why do I get the idea that _I'm_ the reward you chose?"

"And I told her about what happened - when I panicked." Mulder met Skinner's eyes evenly. "I want to go back, Walter. I want to go to the Club."

"Fox - "

"I'm serious. I've got it all beat, all except that. And I won't let that bastard take what we had there away from us."

"No - you're not ready - "

"I'll never _be_ ready until I go there and face it. Please, Walter - "

"No."

"Please."

Skinner looked into Mulder's face and saw the determination there, the underlying strength that he had always admired, and the utter refusal to give in to whatever they threw at him. Bill Mulder was wrong, he thought to himself. This man was no weakling; he had an inner core of steel that had been tempered by pain and loss, and a spirit that refused to be defeated. The man took his breath away, and he found himself starting to laugh.

Mulder was mystified. "What?"

"You." Skinner pulled him in close, hugging him tight, and then let him go. "You wear me out, Fox. All right. I give up. We'll go back next weekend. But," he said sternly, "we're going to take this slowly, understand?"

Mulder smiled at him, his face alight. "Yes. Sir."

 


	24. Playing Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner return to the Club to continue their games following Mulder’s recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Point of No Return" from the "Phantom of the Opera" by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

_Past the point of no return, no backward glances_   
_The games we played till now are at an end_   
_Past the thought of ‘if’ or ‘when’, no use resisting_   
_Abandon thought and let the dream descend_   
_What raging fire shall flood the soul?_   
_What rich desire unlocks its door?_   
_What sweet seduction lies before us?_   
_Past the point of no return, the final threshold,_   
_What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?_   
_Beyond the point of no return_

 

Fox Mulder stood on the sidewalk in front of the Dionysus Club, looking up at the front of the building. It was deceptive in appearance, looking like an old-fashioned bank building or gentlemen’s club, but what lay on the other side of those doors was one of Washington’s best kept secrets. Even after entering the building, wandering through the elegant dining room, the tasteful alcoves and small meeting rooms, the well-appointed gym, the cozy library, one would hardly be able to credit the Club’s true purpose. It was only when you went upstairs to the private suites, rooms outfitted with soundproofing and containing special equipment, that the true reason for the Club’s existence became evident. Sturdy bolts attached to the walls and ceiling. Large beds fitted with rings at the corner posts and on the wall over the headboard. Whipping posts and spanking benches. Cabinets full of special toys and tools. Tamper-proof locks and high-tech security systems to ensure the privacy of the Club’s patrons.

A security system that had failed him, Fox Mulder, leaving him helpless in the hands of an amoral sadist.

He had stood here before, many times, looking up at the building, wondering what lay in store for him on the other side of the door. The first time, he had stood here with Alex Krycek, wondering what the hell he was doing here with Krycek, of all people. He had almost backed out, had almost turned and walked away, but Krycek had seen the hesitation in his face and had taunted him and Mulder had walked up those steps to change his life forever. The second time, the following night, he had stood here torn between terror and anticipation, wondering what the Dominant he would be assigned to would be like, and had walked up those stairs to find that Walter Skinner, his boss, was his assigned Dom. The third time he had stood here, that first weekend, he had been full of equal parts excitement and trepidation, wondering just what he had gotten himself into, already aroused and scared shitless at the thought of being topped by the major player in his jack-off fantasies. Fourth time, when he had stood here marshaling his thoughts after that incredible Thanksgiving weekend, trying to figure out how to tell Skinner that he wanted something _more_ from their encounters here at the Club. And now he stood here again, facing the certain knowledge that no place was completely safe, not even here, but knowing that he was willing to take the risk. Knowing that he needed _something_ , something that he could only get here, in this place, from one person.

Mulder drew a deep breath and went up the stairs. The doorman smiled at him and opened the door. "Welcome back, sir." The Assistant Secretary was manning the check-in desk and he coded a card-key for Skinner’s suite, handing it to Mulder with a smile. "Welcome back, Mr. Mulder."

Mulder drew a deep breath as he approached the elevator with the card-key; Benett had abducted him from one of these elevators and it was the second hurdle he would have to face this weekend.

"Mulder!" A familiar voice called out to him, and he turned with a smile to see Sean jogging down the hallway toward him. "I heard you were back."

Mulder grinned. "You mean you left instructions with the Desk to notify you when your ‘problem child’ checked in."

Sean laughed. "You are too good, mate." He got into the elevator and pressed the button for Mulder’s floor, and Mulder had no choice but to follow him after a first wary glance to make sure that the elevator was empty. He had to admit that he felt better having the company, and he had a feeling that Sean knew it.

"So how was the weekend? What did you end up getting the Mountain?"

"A pair of tickets to the Final Four series next month."

Sean whistled appreciatively. "When you do something, Mulder, you really do it up right. Did he like them?"

Mulder grinned, recalling that the lasagna had almost burned while Skinner demonstrated just how much he liked his present. "Very much. Walter’s a fanatical college hoops fan. I may have to arm-wrestle Scully for the second ticket, though."

Sean shook his head. "In that case, you haven’t got a chance, boy-o."

"Oh, I intend to fight dirty."

"Ah, the old hit-‘em-right-after-incredible-sex ploy?"

"You better believe it." They smiled at each other in perfect understanding. The elevator door opened. "Walter’s taking me to Greece on vacation in April."

"Nice." Sean gave Mulder a wicked look. "You must be better in bed than I thought."

"Jealous?"

"Of you? Hardly!"

Mulder affected a flaming queen pose. "Bitch."

Sean nearly fell down laughing. "God, Mulder, you’re a natural!"

They arrived at the suite and Mulder arranged to meet Sean in the gym the next afternoon before unlocking the door. He closed the door behind him and stood for a moment looking around. Two months, he thought. Two months since the last time he was here. He looked over at the bed, remembering the hot wax play that last weekend and all the other hot games they had played the weekends before that, and he felt his groin tighten. God, but he loved this, loved the way Walter could wind him up so tight that he thought he would simply explode and then gently push him over the edge. Walter made him fly, gave him wings to soar above the pain, and healed his soul. And Walter caught him, easing him down to earth, never letting him fall. Not for the first time, he wondered what the other man got out of this, wondered if it could possibly be close to what he gave to Mulder.

He dropped his bag on the bed and shed his clothes on his way to the bathroom. Once in the shower, he quickly washed his body then got out the razor and shaving cream to carefully remove the hair that had grown back in on his chest and under his arms. Slowly and carefully, he shaved his genital area, running a hand over his skin to make sure that no rough stubble remained, then he soaped his body and hair, rinsed, and stepped out of the shower. He toweled himself dry, then lightly oiled his skin to make it smooth and slick, then went back into the main room. Picking up his discarded clothing, he stuffed them into a labeled laundry bag for the on-site cleaners and tossed the bag into the service chute. Then he dumped out the remaining contents of his overnight bag: cuffs were quickly fastened into place, collar set aside for the moment while Mulder picked up two boxes and began distributing the contents throughout the suite. Ever since Skinner had given Mulder the order that supplies were always to be on hand wherever and whenever the Dom chose to fuck him, there had been a friendly competition between the two of them with Mulder trying to predict just where Skinner might strike and Skinner trying to be totally unpredictable. So far, Mulder had been more successful than Skinner, but the Dom had started getting very inventive the last weekend they were here.

One more task, and Mulder had deliberately left this for last. Fetching the large tube of lubricant, he began carefully preparing himself, feeling himself respond to the stimulation, which was why he left this till the last. Skinner liked him to be partially aroused when he arrived, and the sight of Mulder already hot and ready for him had precipitated more than one heated coupling.

His tasks completed, Mulder tucked the tube into the nightstand drawer and knelt in his place on the floor, the collar lying in front of him, and waited.

* * *

Geoffrey Mason was manning the check-in desk when Skinner arrived, and that was an unusual enough occurrence to make Skinner smile and quiz the Secretary with his eyes.

"Lying in wait for me, Geoff? You haven't done that in a long time." His eyes gleamed with laughter. "I promise I've been good."

Mason snorted and handed Skinner his card-key. "You've obviously forgotten that I dislike smart-alecs."

"Not in the least - I just know my ass is relatively safe from your kindly reminders these days."

"Just keep telling yourself that, Walter." Mason turned the desk back over to his assistant and walked Skinner towards the elevator. "Mulder checked in over an hour ago and Sean saw him safely to your suite. Neither party that you were concerned about appears to be on the premises at present. One of our new subs with a knack for high-tech wizardry has been over your suite with a fine-tooth comb and assures me it is completely safe. He's also instituted a more sophisticated card-key system to keep even the most determined hackers from getting access to your suite. Your boy is as safe as we can make him, short of putting a tracker on him ourselves. Which we can do if you would like."

Skinner shook his head. "He should be safe enough here, now that Benett is dead. Krycek wants to mess with his mind but he's not going to harm Mulder, and the English gentleman is evidently some sort of protector for Mulder." He stopped at the elevator and turned to Mason. "I appreciate all the effort you've put into this. It means a lot to both of us."

"Mulder means a lot to us, Walter. Which reminds me - don't forget that dinner is at seven tomorrow night. We'll be expecting both of you."

Skinner nodded. "We'll be there."

He left Mason at the elevator and walked down the hallway to his suite, unlocking it and entering. The room was in semi-darkness and felt warm and inviting; Mulder must have turned up the temperature a few degrees to make it more comfortable for his naked body. And there was the object of his thoughts, kneeling in his spot in the main room, his collar lying on the floor before him, looking naked and aroused and more incredibly sensual than Skinner had remembered.

He set down his bag and crossed the floor to the kneeling man. "Hello, Fox."

"Hello, sir," Mulder said softly. He knelt up, holding the collar to his neck, so that Skinner could easily fasten it. Skinner allowed himself to caress the sleek skin of Mulder's chest and moved his hand up to cup Mulder's face, and Mulder nuzzled into the caress. "Shower or food first, sir?"

Skinner was tempted to choose a third option first - Mulder himself - but thought that they needed to take it slowly this weekend. And tonight was all about getting back into the D/s mindset before playing heavier games tomorrow - if Mulder still wanted to abide by their negotiated agreement.

"Bath, I think. It's been a long day."

Mulder obediently hopped up and started the bath water, watching the tub fill as he recalled that first bath, when he had put bubble bath in the tub and then had proceeded to sculpt bunny ears on Skinner's head. He smiled - that had turned into a water-wrestling contest which he had gladly lost, followed by Skinner dragging them both out of the tub and onto the bed where he had proceeded to turn Mulder into jelly. He checked the temperature of the water again and turned to find that Skinner had finished unpacking and was starting to undress.

"That’s my job, sir," Mulder said reproachfully, gently pushing Skinner’s hands out of the way. Skinner smiled in amusement but stood quietly while Mulder carefully removed the rest of his clothing, hanging up the suit and adding the rest of the clothes to the laundry bag before sending it on its way. Skinner had already settled in the tub by the time Mulder finished his tasks, and Mulder settled on the tile ledge behind his Dom to await his next orders.

Skinner felt his presence and opened his eyes. "Get in with me."

Mulder paused to remove his leather cuffs and collar before obeying, and Skinner settled the younger man in front of him, leaning back against his chest. He sighed contentedly and let his eyes drift closed again. He had missed this; the bathtub in his apartment wasn’t large enough to accommodate both men comfortably. Idly, he thought that his next place would have to include a larger tub. His hands gently caressed the supple body in front of him; he had missed this, too. Only four days since Monday when he had last held this body against his own, but it seemed like four weeks. And it had been an incredible weekend. Which reminded him – there was still that little matter of "payback". He smiled to himself and began planning his strategy.

Mulder relaxed against the muscular chest behind him and let his eyes drift closed. It had been a quiet week at work, putting together the 302 for an X-File that would take him and his partner out of town the following Monday. He had seen little of the older man during the week as Skinner had been caught up in the quarterly planning meetings, but they had talked on the phone nearly every night. It was a risk, but the Gunmen had outfitted both of their phones with the latest anti-surveillance devices, so they felt relatively safe that their conversations weren’t being recorded for posterity – or blackmail. Still, it wasn’t the same as being together, and Mulder had found himself growing impatient for the weekend. Now it was here, and they were back here at the Club, and Mulder was starting to feel like there had been no interruption in their visits. But at the same time, it was almost like their first time here, as Skinner was taking things very slowly. And Mulder was content to let Skinner take control, surrendering his will to his Dom, letting him do what he wanted.

Skinner felt the surrender in the lean body pressed up against his with satisfaction and let his hands wander freely. He caressed the sleek skin, hairless and seal-like in its smoothness. He had been a little surprised that Mulder had shaved himself completely again; he had half-expected that Mulder would drop back to their beginning relationship. He tweaked a nipple and heard the soft moan of pleasure, briefly debated commanding Mulder to silence but then thought that he really enjoyed the sounds that the man made when aroused. No, he would take a different route this time, he decided, and leaned his mouth close to Mulder’s ear.

"That’s it, Kitten. I want to hear you moaning and begging and whimpering under my touch. I want to hear you scream my name when you come."

"God, I hate it when you call me ‘Kitten’." Mulder moaned as Skinner’s hands moved to the other nipple.

"I know. That’s why I do it."

"Sadistic bastard." Mulder gasped as fingers pinched his tit.

"Such language, Kitten. I think that you’ve forgotten a few lessons since the last time we were here."

"I’m sure that you will remind me, sir."

"You can count on that, boy." Skinner shifted the body in his arms slightly so that he could more comfortably nuzzle the long neck, marking the spot that he always did. Mulder sighed contentedly, relieved that Skinner had stopped torturing his tits for the moment, and tilted his head to give better access. He loved this, loved the way that Skinner always found that one spot on his neck that was such a turn-on. None of his other lovers had ever been this attentive to his needs – or as good at turning him into a quivering heap. Skinner’s hands were moving again, one hand continuing to caress his chest while the other played with his balls and teased his cock by just barely brushing against it. Mulder groaned and tried to shift himself so that his cock would get more attention, then yelped as Skinner nipped at his neck.

"Be still," Skinner ordered, firmly grasping Mulder’s balls. "These are my toys and I’ll play with them the way _I_ want to play with them."

"Yes, sir," Mulder gasped. He went limp against Skinner’s shoulder, unresisting as Skinner shifted him about to caress his thighs, his ass, his chest, his balls, everything but his cock. He was babbling almost constantly now, nonsense words mixed up with Skinner’s name and pleas for more. He was so hot that he thought he might explode, and still Skinner hadn’t touched him where he desperately needed to be touched.

Skinner turned him around so that Mulder was straddling his lap and, for the first time tonight, kissed him. Mulder leaned hungrily into the kiss, surrendering completely to it, letting Skinner claim his mouth in prelude to claiming his body. God, the man was such a great kisser, he thought with what remained of his brain. He shifted closer to the older man and groaned as their erections rubbed against each other, breaking the kiss to catch his breath.

"God, yes!" he gasped, nipping at Skinner's neck. "That feels so good."

Skinner was breathless and completely aroused as well. "Time to take this elsewhere."

Mulder raised his head from Skinner's neck and twisted slightly to reach for something behind the soap dish. Triumphantly, he held up a tube of lubricant designed for use in the water. Skinner had to chuckle but shook his head in disbelief. "You're amazing, Fox."

"Be prepared is my motto."

"I've already told you that you were never a Boy Scout." And then he proceeded to drive Mulder totally crazy before taking him passionately, possessing him completely, and sending him flying.

* * *

The feel of cooling water drove Skinner to extract himself and Mulder from the tub, get them dried off, and then tucked into bed for a short nap. Mulder snuggled drowsily against Skinner's shoulder. He loved this: feeling sated and satisfied, all his inner demons exorcised under Skinner's skillful control. He wondered what Skinner had in mind for the rest of this weekend.

"Walter?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we talk?"

Skinner opened his eyes, suddenly concerned. "You okay, Fox? This didn't push any buttons for you?"

Mulder rolled over onto Skinner's chest, propping himself up on one elbow, and grinned. "Other than the obvious ones? I'm okay, Walter. I'm just - curious."

"About what?"

"About what you've got planned. About where we stand with this whole thing. You said we were going to drop back to basics, take it slowly - just how slow did you mean?"

"A lot slower than you, evidently," Skinner said, running a hand over Mulder's hairless chest. "I thought you'd want to start back at the beginning, before we got into the heavier D/s stuff."

"I _liked_ the heavier D/s stuff," Mulder protested. "It makes it seem - I don't know - more real, somehow. Like I belonged to you."

Skinner held Mulder's face between his hands and said, seriously, "You do. You belong to me. Here and in the real world. And I belong to you."

Mulder turned his head to softly kiss Skinner's palm. "I know, but I mean _really_ belong." He was a little flushed, finding it difficult to explain what he meant.

Skinner frowned. "I'm afraid I'm not getting what you're trying to say."

Mulder sighed and tried again. "Well, like Sean really belongs to Geoff. He told me, when we were both being punished for breaking into Benett's room, that he didn't have to give Geoff permission to whip him because he had already given Geoff permission to do anything he wanted when he became his boy."

"Geoff and Sean have a different type of relationship than we do, Fox, and they live 7x24. It doesn't mean that what they do is better or 'more real'. Geoff's a different kind of Dominant than I am. He's much more Authoritarian, into total control, and they are both heavy into SM. It works for them, fulfills the needs they have, but it's not my personal preference."

Mulder studied him curiously; they had never talked seriously about D/s dynamics and the few times he had asked Skinner why he did this the man had given him a flippant answer. "We've never talked about this before now. What _are_ your preferences, Walter?"

Skinner sighed and wrapped an arm around Mulder, settling him down onto his chest. "I like control, too - "

Mulder snorted. "Big surprise, there."

"Hush. If you want answers, you need to listen," Skinner admonished. "I prefer to control through the mental and psychological aspects of D/s, rather than the physical. I don't like a lot of rules and I don't like to spend my time forcing submission. It's not the activities themselves that I get off on but the surrender as the result of my domination." He smiled and ruffled Mulder's hair. "That's why I have enjoyed our playing together so much - you _get_ the whole concept of Dominance and submission, you _want_ to surrender to me." He shrugged. "I don't think that it's something you can learn, either. I think we were born this way. It feels natural to me, and it comes easily to you. It doesn't make it any less real than what Sean and Geoff have."

Mulder considered this, then sighed. "I suppose not, but it seems - I don't know - different."

"Of course it's different. That doesn't make it less." Skinner soothingly stroked Mulder's back, watching the younger man's eyes start to slide shut. "Rest, Fox. I'll show you tomorrow."

"Okay." Mulder's eyes closed and he drifted into sleep.

Skinner watched him for a long time, pondering just how to prove his point to Mulder.

* * *

Mulder surveyed Skinner over the breakfast table the next morning, propping his head on his hand. "So, what do you have planned for today?"

Skinner looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Finishing my breakfast, for one thing." Mulder sighed and Skinner chuckled. "You are so damn impatient, babe."

"It's just that it's been so long," Mulder complained. "I can't wait till we get started."

"Yes, you can wait." The control voice was there, and Mulder involuntarily shivered. "You can and will wait till _I_ am ready. Your whole mind and body are focused on waiting - waiting for me to touch you, to control you, to take you however and wherever I want." Mulder's eyes were dilated and he was breathing quickly now. "In your place, boy."

Mulder left his chair in a shot, moving to his "place" on the floor and kneeling in position, ass on his heels, hands at his side, head bowed and waiting. His whole mind and being were focused on the man sitting across the room, and even though he wasn't looking at him, he knew exactly what Skinner was doing. He bit back a sigh when he heard Skinner pour another cup of coffee, knowing that any betrayal of his impatience would just prolong his waiting.

Finally, at last, he heard Skinner push away from the table and walk towards him, and his heart started racing in anticipation. Skinner walked past him into the bathroom and Mulder nearly ground his teeth in frustration but he bit back any oral indication of his impatience. And then Skinner was coming back out of the bathroom, walking over to the cabinet. Mulder risked a peek to see if he could determine what Skinner was getting but the man hid whatever it was as he turned back, and Mulder hastily dropped his eyes before he could be caught.

Skinner caught the slight head movement as he turned back and he hid an internal smile. Mulder was nearly quivering with anticipation, wound tighter than a spring, and Skinner knew from experience that Mulder was extremely responsive when he was like this. He moved back to stand in front of the sub.

"Kneel up!"

Mulder immediately moved up on his knees, back straight, eyes focused on Skinner's bare feet. He was already aroused, and his cock jutted out at an angle from his body. Skinner nodded in approval and reached out to grasp the erect cock with his left hand.

"Who does this belong to, boy?"

"You, sir."

"That's right. And who decides when - or if - you can come?"

"You, sir."

"Very good." He fastened a cock ring on the erect cock. "And I'm not going to let you come for a long, long time." Mulder bit back a groan. "Did you say something, boy?"

"No, sir."

"Good." He returned to the cabinet and removed a couple more items. "On the bed, boy, on your knees." Mulder scrambled to obey. Skinner returned to the bed and set a blindfold on the bed beside him, then held out a set of clips. "Hold out your hands." Skinner clipped Mulder's cuffs together in front of him. "These are quick release clips, Fox," he said quietly, dropping into his comfort voice. "If you push your wrists together, the clips will release and you will be free." He demonstrated, then refastened the clips. "If you can't remember that and you get panicked, remember your safe words. Do you understand me, Fox?"

Mulder nodded. Skinner picked up the blindfold and fastened it around Mulder's head, and Mulder felt himself shift into a mindset where he was intensely aware of every touch, every sound. He could almost feel his skin tingling in anticipation.

"Lie down, boy, and grab the headrail with your hands." Once Mulder was stretched out on the bed, Skinner made some adjustments to his body, spreading Mulder's legs open wider. He felt the breath catch in Mulder's throat, the slight trembling in his body, and gently stroked Mulder's skin. "I'm not going to fasten your arms or legs to the bed, Fox," he said quietly. "You can get up and away any time; you can ask me to stop with your safe words at any time. Are you okay? Do you want to continue?" Mulder nodded. "Words, Fox. I need to hear you say it."

Mulder felt his brief agitation melt away, felt a sudden warmth fill him as he accepted both his limited bondage and the caring in his Dom's voice. He cleared his throat. "I'm okay, sir. I can continue."

"Good." Skinner studied the body stretched out before him, feeling his own arousal begin as he once again thought how beautiful the man was. And here he was, waiting quietly yet eagerly for Skinner's touch, waiting for him to ravage that beautiful body however he wanted. He had to take several deep breaths to control his own arousal or it would be all over before it began.

Skinner began caressing the sleek body stretched out before him, exploring every inch of it with his fingers, rediscovering all the most sensitive parts of Mulder's body. Mulder gasped and moaned, writhing under his touch, gripping the headrail tightly to keep from grabbing that head and those hands and putting them where he most needed them. A frustrated sob escaped from him as he felt one finger lightly stroke down his erection.

"Please," he whimpered, "please touch me, sir."

"Not yet, boy," Skinner said, moving his hands back up to tease and torment the erect nipples. "You're not ready yet." It was time to up the sensual torture, to get Mulder's mind firmly engaged. "You are so beautiful like this. So perfect. Your body sensitive to every touch, every sensation." He blew gently across Mulder's nipples, watching him shiver in delicious arousal. "I've never known anyone so sensitive, so completely aware of his body." Mulder gasped and moaned as Skinner continued his exploration with his mouth. He nuzzled and bit gently along the collarbone, licked long trails down the sleek, hairless chest, placing an occasional kiss on the tip of Mulder's cock before returning to his exploration of the rest of Mulder's body. Mulder was soon reduced to a shivering, helpless wreck, nearly wild with pleasure.

Skinner moved to kneel between Mulder's legs, laying the tube of lubricant next to him. "Turn over, boy. I'm going to fuck you now."

"Oh, God, yes, please, sir," Mulder gasped, quickly flipping over onto his belly and raising his ass into the air.

Skinner caressed the firm ass, noting with satisfaction that Mulder had lubed himself that morning as instructed. He eased in a finger, stretching and preparing the tight hole for their mutual pleasure, and felt Mulder press back eagerly against his probing fingers. He bit back his own groan; his cock was so hard that it was beginning to hurt and he knew that he couldn't wait any longer. Moving into place, he thrust into the perfect body below him, one long, slow thrust until he was completely buried inside. Mulder was gasping and groaning, and he had to stop and take a long deep breath or it would be over too soon. Mulder wiggled slightly, indicating that he was ready for more, and Skinner began thrusting steadily. Mulder was meeting him, thrust for thrust, moaning almost constantly now, making those hot noises that drove Skinner completely out of his mind. He was groaning, too; it was so unbelievably perfect, so good. The sensations in his cock were building to almost unbearable levels. He reached around to remove the cock ring from Mulder, stroking it with his hand, and that was enough to send Mulder over the edge. He came with a scream, arching his back and thrusting back hard, his ass clenching around Skinner's cock. Skinner gasped, then he was coming, too, lightning shooting sparks behind his eyes, blanking out all sensations as he fell into the enveloping darkness.

He came to slowly, barely aware that he had collapsed onto the slender body under his, and withdrew shakily. Gently, he turned Mulder over and removed the blindfold, relieved to see that the younger man was blinking and drawing shaky breaths.

"What happened?" Mulder asked. "Did I pass out again?"

Skinner grinned. "Yes, and so did I." He leaned over to kiss Mulder, then unsnapped the link between the cuffs. "You were incredible. How do you feel?"

"Wonderful. It was every bit as incredible as I remembered."

"Good." He settled them both under the covers, and Mulder snuggled down into his usual place on Skinner's shoulder.

"You were right," Mulder said sleepily.

Skinner tilted his head and peered down at Mulder's face. "About what?"

"It's every bit as real as what Sean and Geoff do. When you said all that stuff at the table - I could feel myself surrendering to you, wanting to submit. It was incredible." He turned his head and nuzzled against Skinner's neck. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Skinner said softly. "And you were right, too."

Mulder blinked open his eyes. "About what?"

"You _were_ ready to come back here." He kissed Mulder's lips softly. "Get some rest, babe. Geoff and Sean have invited us to dinner tonight. And before we go, I've got a little surprise planned for you."

"A good surprise or a bad surprise?"

Skinner chuckled. "Yes. Remember last weekend? Payback is a bitch, boy."

"Oh, God!" 


	25. Payback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner continue to rediscover their relationship at the Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "One Week" by Ed Robertson, from "Stunt" by BareNaked Ladies.

_It’s been one week since you looked at me_ _  
Threw your hands in the air and said, "You’re crazy"_ _  
Five days since you tackled me_ _  
I’ve still got the rug burns on both my knees_ _  
It’s been three days since the afternoon_ _  
You realized it’s not my fault not a moment too soon_ _  
Yesterday you’d forgiven me_   
_And now I sit back and wait till you say you’re sorry._

 

Walter Skinner woke before his lover and lay in bed watching the other man sleep, thinking that Fox Mulder in repose was a rare sight and one worthy of study. Mulder was sprawled on his stomach, flushed and warm with sleep, and had kicked one leg free of the covers. Somehow, the sight of one bare leg while the rest of that body was swathed under the sheets was more erotic and enticing than if the whole body had been exposed to his view. Like a Christmas present, Skinner thought, tantalizing and unknown and waiting to be unwrapped. He smiled to himself; this was _his_ present, and he was going to unwrap it now. He lifted the covers slightly and slipped head-first under them.

Mulder drifted up from a deep, dreamless sleep to find himself floating in a sea of pleasurable sensation. He blinked his eyes open and turned his head sideways to see that the sheet beside him was moving in an odd way that seemed to have something to do with the sensation of fingers and tongue on his skin.

He let his eyes drift shut again, saying with lazy contentment, "I sure hope that’s you under the covers, sir, otherwise I’m going to have to complain to the management about a strange apparition in my bed."

A soft chuckle came from somewhere in the vicinity of his knees followed by a gentle nip on the back of his thigh. "Not everything is an X-File, Agent Mulder."

Mulder grinned and stretched. "Couldn’t prove it by me, boss."

Lips moved up the back of his thighs and across his ass, and he drew in a sharp breath. Another soft chuckle and he was being rolled to his side facing his unseen lover. More tantalizing touches, more arousing because the one bestowing the erotic attention was hidden from view and Mulder’s memory and imagination had to fill in the details. And Mulder had a vivid imagination and an incredible memory. He closed his eyes, "seeing" Skinner’s hands caress his body just _so_ and his lips brush across the inside of his thigh just like _that_. And then his lover was moving upward, breathing on the cock that was already responding eagerly to the expert touch, engulfing it in the heat of a skillful mouth. Mulder groaned, hissing slightly as a tongue traced up the vein, and blindly reached out toward the cock bobbing enticingly before his face.

A sharp smack on his ass reminded him that this was his Dom, not his lover, and that different rules applied here. "Have I given you permission to touch me, boy?"

"Sorry, sir." Mulder gasped. "Please, sir? Please let me touch you."

"All right – using your mouth only. No hands." Skinner flung back the sheet so that he could keep an eye on Mulder.

Mulder leaned forward eagerly and took the engorged cock in his mouth, his tongue dancing over the surface, licking and teasing before sucking it in. Skinner, his own mouth similarly occupied with Mulder’s cock, groaned and thanked whatever powers there were that the younger man had such a talented mouth. Must have something to do with that oral fixation, he thought in amusement, shifting his body slightly to get more comfortable, then returned his concentration to the lean body before him. He shifted Mulder’s legs slightly so that his free hand could move between the cheeks of his ass, teasing the anal opening. Finding it still lubricated from their earlier encounter, he slipped a finger inside and began slowly thrusting in and out while he increased the suction of his mouth. Mulder groaned, gasped, trying to say something without releasing the cock in his mouth. Skinner laughed softly, even more amused when Mulder groaned as he released the younger man’s cock.

"Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?"

Deliberately, he rocked his hips forward and forced his cock deeper in Mulder’s mouth. Mulder relaxed his mouth and throat to the deeper penetration then he deliberately slid all the way down till his nose was pressed against Skinner’s balls. Skinner gasped at the sensation, part of his brain registering that Mulder was getting incredibly good at deep-throating while the rest of his mind switched off. He gave up teasing Mulder and concentrated on driving the man completely crazy, sucking and finger-fucking. They raced towards completion, each trying to push the other over the edge first while delaying his own gratification. Skinner could feel the unbearably wonderful pressure building within himself and held on desperately as he increased his movement, twisting his finger to brush the prostate again. That was it for Mulder; he arched, rocking his hips uncontrollably as he came hard. Skinner held him firmly in place, sucking and swallowed and relishing the muffled gasps, and then Mulder’s mouth was suddenly so demanding that Skinner felt himself exploding and heard himself crying out.

Skinner came back to full awareness of his surroundings to find that Mulder’s mouth and nose were gently nuzzling his balls and he laughed softly. He reached down to tousle the dark hair and said, teasingly, "Good Kitten." Mulder growled in mock annoyance, moving his head back slightly and pretending to scowl at the horrible nickname. Skinner laughed and sat up, retrieving the covers and settling back down on the pillows with Mulder while they recovered. He stroked the soft hair, reveling in the texture of it.

"You’re getting very good at that," he said softly, and an incandescent smile was flashed at him.

"I had a great teacher."

Skinner chuckled and turned his head to kiss Mulder briefly. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I’m already where I want to be," Mulder said contentedly, snuggling closer.

Skinner felt his throat tighten unexpectedly at that and tightened his hold on the slender body. "Good. Because I’m not letting you go anywhere else."

They laying drowsing for a while in lazy contentment, not talking or thinking, just drifting. Finally, Skinner roused them both to shower and get ready for Sean and Mason’s dinner party. He had something special in mind to tease Mulder and he wanted to have plenty of time.

He dressed first in casual black pants and a garnet colored silk shirt with Mulder assisting him. Mulder was relishing his role of valet, his hands slowly and sensually fastening buttons on his shirt, his hands just barely brushing Skinner’s groin as he zipped and buttoned his pants. He knelt to put on Skinner’s socks and shoes, reverently kissing each toe first, then looked up at Skinner through his eyelashes with a sultry and seductive grin. It took all Skinner’s restraint to keep him from grabbing Mulder and throwing him on the bed and fucking him through the mattress.

"Stop that, brat," he growled.

Laughing green eyes looked at him innocently. "Stop what, sir?"

Skinner growled again and decided that it was definitely payback time. He went to the closet and pulled out a bag that he had brought with him, removing a white silk shirt and pleated linen pants, setting them on the bed.

"Nice," Mulder commented, picking up the silk shirt.

"I think I got the right sizes." Mulder looked at the clothing and then back at Skinner. "Something wrong, Fox?"

"Um - I think you forgot something. Underwear."

"You won't be wearing any," Skinner said calming, reaching into the bag again. "You'll be wearing something else underneath." He pulled out a leather harness and advanced on Mulder with a glint in his eyes.

Mulder eyed the contraption dangling from Skinner's fingers nervously. "Sir, that looks uncomfortable."

"And your point would be?"

Mulder cast his eyes heavenward, recognizing that Skinner was in a playful mood, and sighed. "No point, sir. I just thought I'd mention it."

Skinner grinned, a surprisingly wicked grin that was at the same time extremely arousing. He noticed the effect on his sub and laughed. "Maybe it's just as well that I decided to put this on you tonight." He reached out and grasped Mulder's half-erect cock in his hand, stroking it sensually. Mulder gasped and spread his feet wider for balance, allowing Skinner access to whatever part of his body he wanted. But after a moment Skinner stopped and fastened the leather device around Mulder's cock, buckling the three straps and adjusting them to fit snugly. Two more straps went around his testicles, separating them and Mulder groaned. Skinner studied the effect.

"I like it. I may have you wear this more often. Imagine how much more interesting budget meetings would be if I could look across the table and know you had this on underneath."

Mulder moaned and dropped his forehead down onto Skinner's shoulder. "God, Walter, you're even kinkier than I am."

"I think you've said that before," Skinner laughed. "I'm not done yet."

"There's more? Oh, shit."

Skinner took out some thin leather straps and fastened one around Mulder's waist like a belt, a second strap from the belt to a ring on one of the cock-straps, and the third from the back of the belt along his crack to fasten onto the straps encircling his balls. Skinner adjusted the straps until Mulder's cock was almost immobile, then had the younger man walk so he could be sure that it didn't rub anywhere too uncomfortably. Mulder flushed in embarrassment as every movement caused exquisitely arousing sensations in his cock and along his asshole.

"All right," Skinner said finally when he was satisfied. "Get dressed."

Mulder looked at him imploringly. "Sir, you're not going to make me go out with _this_ on, are you?"

Skinner's eyes were gleaming again. "That's the whole point, Fox."

Mulder sighed and pulled on the pants and shirt, then looked at himself in the mirror. The white silk shirt was open-necked and deeply slit and so thin that the faint outline of his nipples could be seen through it, and the neutral-colored pants were too loose to provide additional support while at the same time clinging to the outlines of his body seductively. He was certain that everyone who looked at him could see just what he was wearing under those pants.

"God, sir, I look like a Tom Jones wanna-be!"

Skinner chuckled and stepped up behind Mulder, pulling the younger man back slightly to rest against his body, his hands reaching around to caress the sleek chest exposed by the open shirt. "Embarrassed, Fox? Embarrassed to let everyone see just how beautiful you are? The way your nipples swell when that thin shirt brushes against them." His hand moved down across the flat stomach and around to cup a firm cheek. "Or the way these pants cling to your ass and caress them like my hands do." The hands moved forward to cup his restrained cock. "Or the way your cock strains at the front of your pants, firm and hot and hard?" His thumb brushed over the head of Mulder's cock in its leather cage and he heard the low moan from his sub. "You're beautiful, babe, and hot, and mine."

Mulder felt the swelling against his ass and wriggled against it. "Can't we just stay up here, sir? You can take me back to bed and do whatever you like to me."

Skinner chuckled and dropped his head to nip at his favorite spot on Mulder's neck. "I can do that anyway, and I will - later. For now, Geoff and Sean are expecting us, and it would be impolite to keep them waiting." He squeezed Mulder one last time and turned back toward the bed, picking up Mulder's collar. "One last thing." He fastened it around Mulder's neck and studied the effect. "Yes. Perfect."

"Well, as long as you’re happy, sir."

"Don't sulk, Kitten. It's not pretty."

Mulder sighed and followed Skinner out into the hallway. He had a feeling that it was going to be a long, long night.

* * *

Skinner and Mulder made their way down to the private dining room adjoining the Secretary’s suite, Mulder arriving in an even more flustered state than he had been on leaving their suite. Skinner had taken the opportunity of an empty elevator to demonstrate another feature of the cock harness – he slid his hand into the back of the waistband of Mulder’s pants, tugging gently on the leather belt, making the younger man gasp and groan in frustrated arousal.

The special catering staff was just putting the final touches on the table when they entered, Mason was icing a bottle of champagne, and Sean was in a serious discussion with a dark-haired woman wearing a gold bracelet who seemed to be in charge of the catering staff. Sean finished whatever last-minute instructions he had and crossed to Mulder, giving him a quick appraising look. "Well, looks like everything's going fine with you this weekend." He touched Mulder's arm and said, in a rare moment of complete seriousness, "Just remember, I've been there and, if you ever need to talk with anyone, I'm here for you."

"Thanks," Mulder said gratefully, then glanced over at Skinner with irritation. "I may need your help disposing of a corpse later tonight."

Sean grinned. "The Mountain giving you hell?"

"He’s tormenting the life out of me."

Sean ran an experienced eye over Mulder and grinned knowledgeably. "Uncomfortable, mate?"

"Fuck you," Mulder snorted. "And you look a little uncomfortable yourself – ‘mate’."

Sean chuckled. "Yeah," he said with satisfaction. "I ticked off Geoff and he blistered my arse." He looked up with a grin as Mason crossed to them and wrapped an arm around his sub. "Speaking of which - why don’t we ask Mulder his opinion, Geoff?"

Mason frowned. "I don’t need another opinion, Sean. I’ve made up my mind and the answer is final – no. You come up with something other than a tattoo or piercing and I’ll consider it. And don’t go behind my back on this. You do it on your own and you eat standing up for a week. Am I perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Geoff," Sean said meekly, but Mulder could see the twinkle in his eye. He was amazed that Sean would even consider going against Mason – the man terrified him when he frowned like that.

Evidently Mason wasn’t fooled, either, and he gave Sean a swat. "Enough, brat." He smiled over at Mulder, looking him up and down. "That’s a good look for you, Mulder. Walter must have picked out the shirt. And the accessories."

Mulder flushed. "Is it obvious to _everyone_?"

Mason laughed. "Just to the experienced eye. No need to be embarrassed, boy. All of us have been there at one time or another."

Mulder’s eyes gleamed. "Speaking of which, I’d like to hear some stories about _Walter’s_ bottom days, sir."

Mason snorted and reached over to cuff Mulder’s head lightly. "Not likely, boy! We tops have to stick together." He gave Sean a last squeeze and walked over to talk to Skinner.

Mulder looked at Sean inquisitively. "So what was that all about?"

Sean shrugged. "Our third anniversary is coming up and I wanted to do something personal and permanent, like getting a tattoo or a nipple pierced. Geoff put his foot down. Emphatically."

"Why? Oh!" Mulder suddenly recalled Sean’s HIV status.

"I promised him that I’d only let an ethical and informed person do it, but he’s paranoid about infections." Sean scowled and sighed. "Oh, well, I’ll think of something. Or I’ll just do it and take the consequences."

"I wouldn’t want to cross Mason," Mulder said frankly. "He looks like he eats bottoms for breakfast."

"But I like it when Geoff eats me," Sean said mischievously, laughing as Mulder blushed.

Mulder looked over the table, counting the chairs. "You expecting more guests for dinner?"

"Just friends, Mulder. A lot of people wanted to be here to welcome you back but I thought that might embarrass you so we limited the guest list." A movement from the doorway caught both their attentions. "Ah, our other guest is here."

Mulder was stunned to see Scully in the doorway, escorted by one of the security guards, and even more stunned when Geoffrey Mason crossed to shake hands with her and escort her into the room. He glanced over at Sean to see the man grinning at him.

"Geoff is smitten with your Scully, I think. He always did have a thing for redheads."

"But I thought he was gay - "

"Because of me? No, Geoff prefers male subs but has no particular preference in junior tops - he's brought along both men and women."

"You think Scully's interested - no. No way."

Sean shrugged and smiled. "Stranger things have happened."

Scully had made her way over to them and folded her arms, giving Mulder a quick once-over look that made Mulder grin and wonder if Sean might not be right. "Hello, Mulder. You're looking much more relaxed than you did yesterday afternoon."

Mulder gave her a bland look. "If you think I look relaxed, you should see Walter."

Scully snorted. "Egotist." Mulder grinned. "I like the look, Mulder. What the well-dressed slave is wearing these days?"

"I'm not a slave," Mulder corrected mildly. "Walter doesn't take slaves. I'm his sub and he's my Dom."

" _I'm_ a slave," Sean said genially.

Scully looked puzzled. "But you're wearing the collar, Mulder, not Sean."

Mulder shook his head. "That has nothing to do with it. This collar is a personal gift from Walter. Whether you're a slave or a sub or any other designation depends on what kind of games you play, right, Sean?"

"Generally speaking," Sean said. "Geoff and I are into SM; he is my master and I belong to him. Mulder and the Mountain play D/s games."

"The mountain?" Scully laughed. "I like that!"

Mulder was about to say something when the catering crew returned and they both saw a sight that stunned them.

" _Frohike_?"

Frohike was balancing a tray loaded with bread baskets and he set them down on the table, then turned to the brunette that Sean had been speaking with earlier. "May I be excused for a moment, Mistress?" She nodded and Frohike walked over to Mulder and Scully, grinning at their stunned expressions.

"Hello, Mulder, Agent Scully."

A slow smile crossed Mulder's face. "Okay, Frohike, let's see the wrist." Frohike flushed a little and pulled back his sleeve so that Mulder could see the silver bracelet on it. "So you're a sub to - ?"

"Mistress Christina." Frohike indicated the brunette. "She's a junior top, to Master Jean-Pierre."

" _Master_ Jean-Pierre?" Mulder said faintly. "I didn't know that he - "

Sean shrugged and grinned. "Most of the staff are also Doms or subs here. It's the perfect situation for both sides."

Scully was studying Frohike coolly. "So, when did this happen?"

Frohike shrugged. "After Mulder's abduction, the Club wanted to make this place more secure, so they asked me to do some freelance work. I redesigned the card-key system, tightened their computer security - and that's when I met Mistress Christina."

"I didn't know you were interested in this kind of thing," Mulder said. "What do the guys think about it?"

Frohike shrugged again. "They think I'm crazy, of course. Byers keeps looking at me out of the corner of his eye like he expects me to jump him at any moment." He grinned. "Man, I like messing with their minds. They like the secondary effect of this, though."

"And what's that?" Scully asked, curious.

Frohike smiled. "I'm learning to cook." He nodded to them and returned to his duties.

"Dana, if you'll just take a seat here," Mason said, indicating the chair to his right. "Walter, how about we relax the rules tonight and let the boys join us at the table? Mulder, if you'll take the chair to Dana's right, Sean, you're on my left, and Walter, you're at the foot of the table."

Dana? Mulder thought to himself as he took the indicated chair. When the hell did _that_ happen?

Sean grinned across the table at Scully. "He's always this bossy, Dr. Scully."

"Just Scully, please," she said with a smile to Sean. "After all, we're practically family." She waited until they had been served, then picked up her glass and took a small sip. "So where do the 'boys' normally sit when they eat if they aren't usually allowed at the table."

"On the floor," Mason said coolly, "or standing behind our chairs. Of course, in private it's a matter of personal preference. I generally let Sean sit at the table with me, unless he's misbehaved, and I expect that Walter does the same."

"And how do they feel about that?"

Mason allowed a small smile to touch the corner of his mouth. "Why don’t you ask them? They haven't taken an oath of silence, you know - although sometimes I wish this imp had." He reached out to ruffle Sean's hair.

Scully turned her head to study Mulder, then looked across the table at Sean. "Well? How do you feel about it?"

Mulder and Sean exchanged a look and shrugged. "It's part of the discipline, Scully."

Scully grinned at her partner. "Somehow, Mulder, discipline is not a word I ever expected to have mentioned in connection with you."

"Actually, Fox has quite an affinity for discipline in this setting," Skinner said with a smile at Mulder. "Now, if we could only translate that into the work arena…"

Mulder made a face at him. "Hey! I've been doing a lot better lately! I've only ditched Scully once or twice, and I haven't been hospitalized in months."

A sudden silence fell over the table as they all remembered why Mulder had been hospitalized the last time.

Scully flushed. "I'm sorry, Mulder."

Mulder put his hand on Scully's and said, "It's okay. I'm just about over it. Dr. Kate's put gold stars on my report card." He looked at the others. "Hey! No long faces - this is supposed to be a celebration."

"Right," Mason said, gesturing to the catering staff. Champagne glasses appeared at each of their plates while Mason opened the bottle of champagne that had been chilling. "Dana, gentlemen, I propose a toast. To Fox Mulder, one of the finest young man it has been my privilege to know. Welcome back, boy."

Mulder flushed at the echoing sounds of "To Mulder" and "To Fox". "Thanks, guys," he said quietly, giving them each a warm smile. "You're the best friends I've ever had. I couldn't have done it without you guys - you rescued me and kept me sane." He raised his glass to them. "To friends, old and new."

* * *

After dinner, Mason rose from the table. "We’ll take our coffee and dessert in my suite, Christina."

"Very good, sir." She signaled to her staff and they moved in to clear the table as Mason led the way to his suite. Once there, Mason gestured to the couch. "Dana, I believe you’ll find the couch to be the most comfortable. Walter, make yourself at home." He settled into his armchair, tossing a cushion at his feet for Sean to sit on. Skinner took the other armchair and nodded to Mulder to take his usual place on the low ottoman beside him.

Christina entered, followed by Frohike pushing the dessert cart, and Mulder and Sean rose from their seats to fetch coffee for their Doms while Frohike brought Scully a cup. Christina brought around a tray of desserts for them to select from and Mulder eyed her graceful presentation with envy, exchanging a look with Sean as they remembered his first attempt and the disaster that had resulted.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" Christina asked.

"No, thank you. The boys will take care of anything else we need. A superb dinner, Christina; you outdid yourself this time."

"Thank you, sir." Christina gestured to Frohike and they left.

Scully sipped her coffee and studied the two couples curiously. Skinner saw the wheels turning in her head and smiled. "What is it, Scully? Something you're curious about?"

"I'm curious about it all," Scully said frankly. "I've never known anyone in an alternate lifestyle - I feel like I'm in a foreign country and the language is vaguely familiar but has different meanings. I don't want to offend anyone - "

"You won't," Sean said with a laugh. "Geoff and I have been in this for years, and Walter to a lesser extent, and we've heard it all." He grinned across at Mulder. "Of course, Mulder's just a baby but he's quite a prodigy." Mulder shot him a bird, grinning.

Scully laughed softly. "I must admit that this is _not_ what I expected. It all just seems so - so normal."

Mason smiled. "Well, I don't know about Walter, but I don't wear leather all the time - it makes me sweat. And, much as I'd like to keep Sean chained to my bed, nothing would get done around the apartment if I did that." Sean snorted at that. "We're just normal people, Dana; you pass people like us every day without knowing it - at the bank, the supermarket, work. We eat and sleep and love just like everyone else. We just prefer a little spice with our lovemaking, like to push our boundaries."

Scully turned the subject towards other areas and soon the five were arguing companionably about the upcoming basketball series, which brought up the subject of Mulder's present to Skinner of tickets to the Final Four. That, in turn, brought up the upcoming vacation trip to Greece and the cover story of the London conference. Scully sipped her coffee and watched the four men bantering back and forth, trying to remember the last time that she had felt this relaxed around four such good-looking and intelligent men. She had kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up on the couch, laughing at the outrageous things that Sean was suggesting that they pack for their vacation - items that would probably get them arrested if they could even fit them into the suitcases - reflecting that it was nice to just be herself without having to worry about how she looked or what she was saying. She watched in amusement as Skinner leaned closer to Mulder, his hand moving down the younger man's back as he murmured something in his ear that made Mulder turn red. Sean and Mason exchanged a look and a laugh - some kind of in-joke, she thought - and that made her feel a little wistful.

She reluctantly set down her coffee cup and slipped her feet off the couch and into her shoes. "Well, this has been wonderful, but it's getting late and I better get going."

The four men stood up, and Skinner offered to escort Scully to her car. Scully accepted, said goodnight to the other three men, then followed Skinner into the hallway. Mason left to confer with the night staff and check on any problems, and Mulder helped Sean collect the coffee cups and dessert plates. Mulder had been thinking over Sean’s problem and, now that they were alone, he turned to Sean.

"So, have you figured out what you’re going to do about the permanent mark for Geoff?"

Sean shook his head, sighing. "No. Guess I’m just going to have to get it done and have him mad at me – he’ll get over it eventually."

"Have you already thought about a brand?" Seeing Sean’s mouth drop open, he added quickly, "I’ve read about them. It sounds painful, but then, so does having your nipple pierced. And there wouldn’t be any puncturing, so the chance of infection is less."

Sean beamed at Mulder and bounced across the room to ruthlessly hug him. "You’re a _genius_ , Mulder!"

"Am I interrupting something, boys?" Mason said dryly, coming back into the room.

Sean released Mulder and practically vaulted into Mason’s arms, locking his ankles around the taller man’s waist. "A brand! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it! It’s perfect! Say yes, Geoff, please?"

"Slow down, Sean," Mason teased. "A brand?" Sean nodded vigorously and Mason considered both the idea and the hopeful face in front of him. "All right. I agree."

Sean let out a whoop of joy and impetuously began kissing Mason over and over. Mulder grinned, realizing that they had totally forgotten their audience – not that it had stopped them before – and pushed the cart out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He returned the cart to the kitchen then waited in the hallway for Skinner to return.

Skinner was surprised to see Mulder leaning against the wall outside the Secretary’s suite. "They threw you out, Fox?"

Mulder grinned. "Actually, I left on my own. They were a little...occupied at the time."

Skinner laughed softly and moved closer to Mulder, pinning him to the wall. "What – you didn’t want to stay and watch?"

"Been there, done that," Mulder said teasingly, wrapping his arms around Skinner and pulling the man’s body tight against his own. "I much prefer being a participant, thank you very much."

Skinner chuckled and leaned over to nip at Mulder’s neck, his hands sliding down the back of Mulder’s pants to tug at the leather straps. "I never knew you were into orgies, babe."

Mulder groaned at the dual stimulation from Skinner’s manipulation of the straps and the light pressure rubbing against his caged cock. "Only private orgies with one other participant, and I’ll let you guess who that is."

"I couldn’t possibly guess." Skinner’s hands slid down to cup the firm ass, squeezing gently, and Mulder moaned. Skinner covered Mulder’s mouth with his own, muffling his cries.

Mulder was rubbing himself against Skinner frantically, pulling the other man’s shirt free of his pants to slide his hands up under it and touch hot skin. Skinner groaned at that touch, broke free of Mulder with what little remained of his senses, and looked around him. He tugged Mulder down the hallway and pushed him through an open doorway. Taking a quick look around, he shut and locked the door, then turned back to Mulder and pulled him into his arms again.

Mulder returned the kiss with enthusiasm, grinding himself against the hard body clutching him. When Skinner released his mouth to attack his neck, he dropped his head to Skinner’s shoulder and laughed softly.

"You have something in mind, sir?"

"Definitely," Skinner said, pulling Mulder’s silk shirt up and off, then latching onto nipples that were already hard points. "If you remembered your instructions, I intend to fuck you fast and hard right here and right now."

Mulder groaned, aroused by both the words and Skinner’s work on his nipples. "And if I didn’t remember the supplies, sir?"

Skinner’s cock was so hard that it was almost painful, and he growled, "Then I might have to consider initiating spankings."

Mulder laughed and snaked a hand down between them to fumble in his pocket, producing lube and a condom. "Looks like I saved my ass, sir."

"Only in one sense, Fox."

Skinner hoisted Mulder over one shoulder and deposited him on the large piece of furniture in the center of the room – a billiards table. Mulder began laughing helplessly while Skinner ruthlessly stripped off Mulder’s pants and tossed them to the side. In a moment, the cock harness had joined it and Mulder’s knees were practically touching his nose as Skinner quickly stroked in the lube. He unfastened his pants and pushed them out of the way along with his briefs, rolled on the condom, and thrust home in one smooth movement. Mulder, still gasping with laughter, threw his legs over Skinner’s shoulders and locked ankles behind his neck. Skinner began thrusting deep and hard and Mulder held on for the ride, wondering with the working fraction of his brain if it was possible to get felt burn. Then Skinner gripped his hips hard, holding Mulder still while he continued slamming into the hot and welcoming body, and Mulder was certain that he was going to have bruises on his hips from those fingers but he couldn't care less. He switched from gasping with laughter to gasping with pleasure as he was completely and thoroughly possessed by the older man.

He was begging almost constantly now, a litany of "pleasepleaseplease" filling the room as he was filled and emptied, and it was hot and fast and incredible. He heard Skinner shout, felt his own climax approaching. Then he was crying out and coming so hard that he felt that his heart might explode from the sheer joy of release.

Gradually he came back to full awareness, conscious of the dampness on his belly and the sweet sensation of gentle kisses being pressed along his skin. He sighed in contentment, slipping his legs down from Skinner’s shoulders to wrap them around his waist, pulling him closer. Skinner pulled him up against his chest, brushing his lips against Mulder’s.

"Let’s go upstairs."

Mulder chuckled. "You may have to carry me, sir – I don’t think my legs are fully functional yet."

"I am _not_ carrying a naked man through the Club." Skinner handed Mulder his pants.

Mulder grinned mischievously. "So you’re saying you’ll carry me if I get dressed?"

"Brat," Skinner growled, and pulled him in for a rough, quick kiss.

"Yes, sir, but I'm your brat so you're stuck with me." Mulder slid off the table and picked up his silk shirt and the cock harness. Letting it dangle from his fingers, he gave Skinner a sideways look. "I think I better hold onto this. You never know when another opportunity to use it will arise. But tell me, sir – is this custom fitted or ‘one-size-fits-all’?" He directed a significant look at Skinner’s cock as the older man reassembled his clothing.

Skinner looked over at Mulder in amusement. "Sounds like we’re getting mighty cocky, boy. Just remember two things before you attempt to top me again."

"And that would be?"

"The first is while we are here _I_ am the top so your experimentation will take place elsewhere."

"And the second thing, sir?"

Skinner reached out and pulled Mulder closer, growling, "Payback is a bitch, boy."

"Oh God!"


	26. Friend of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mulder and Skinner celebrate their special relationship, the people around them deal with their feelings over the following two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "You've Got a Friend."

_Now ain't it good to know that you've got a friend_   
_When people can be so cold._   
_They'll hurt you and desert you and take your soul if you let them._   
_But don't you let them._   
_All you have to do is call and I'll be there._   
_You've got a friend._

 

Skinner woke to the agreeable sensation of another body in his bed and he smiled. He couldn’t believe that he had once taken this for granted. How, over six short months, had he come to accept the fact of Fox Mulder in his bed as a given instead of the incredible gift that it was? It had taken only one day for him to learn to never make that mistake again, a day in which he hadn’t been certain he would ever see his lover again. It had taken two long months before the man had returned to his bed and he had missed him, had missed both the nights of passion and these quiet mornings together. Lazy Sunday mornings spent snuggled under the covers, the long, lean body pressed along his, with nothing planned and nowhere they had to be.

He smiled in remembrance of the previous evening and rolled over, spooning up against Mulder. His hand caressed his lover's chest, sliding down his body to adjust Mulder's upper leg, draping it over his own so he could get even closer. His cock was hardening already, and he rubbed it slowly and sensuously along the cleft of his lover's ass. His hand drifted back up to caress Mulder's nipples while he kissed the nape of his neck.

There was a soft chuckle and a murmured voice. "You have something in mind, Walter?"

"Maybe. Any objections?" His mouth worried at an earlobe, nipped at a supple neck.

"Of course not," Mulder said in a teasing tone. "I am yours to command in all things, O stern and studly master."

"Good. Because I have a couple things in mind that require your complete cooperation…"

 

* * *

 

**Sunday – Feb 22 - Geoffrey Mason**

I left Sean sleeping peacefully in our bed, taking time to shower and dress before entering my office through the private doorway from our suite. I like to spend Sunday mornings in my office; it’s peaceful with few interruptions and I can get a lot of work done. New members of my household are always surprised by the amount of work it takes to run this place – it isn’t all fun and topping games. Already there are a stack of videotapes on the desk and a list of minor infractions to be handled. No major charges, only a little hand-slapping this weekend. I go down the list, assessing fines and making notes on a few people that need written warnings. I make a mental note to inform Sean about a freelance sub that seems to be having adjustment problems.

Then I turn my attention to the stack of videos and smile. It looks like it was a busy night – not that I am surprised. A full moon tends to bring out frisky behavior in my Doms, and I am more amused than annoyed. As long as the tops confine their activities to the side rooms and don’t jeopardize their subs or bother other patrons, I’m willing to give them leeway to play. I have standing instructions with Security to transfer "private" sessions to videotape and remove them from the system tapes, and I personally distribute these tapes to the appropriate Doms. I have a good Security staff – it has been almost six months since the last incident, the first one in three years. And I can understand the boy succumbing to the temptations of Alex Krycek and giving him the master cardkey to Walter’s suite – Krycek is incredibly persuasive, not to mention easy on the eyes. The boy came forward on his own when he heard what had happened, confessed his part, and I personally witnessed his correction by his Dom so I doubt that he will make that mistake again. Then, too, I have had him transferred into another area where he is less likely to be tempted.

I glance idly at the labels on the tapes and one catches my eye. I can’t believe it and have to pull the tape from the stack and study the label closely before my eyes accept the evidence before them: _Skinner – Billiard Room_.

I find myself smiling and cannot resist the impulse to pop the video into the machine in my office. It has been a long time since I have seen Walter in action and I am amused by the idea of my former Junior cavorting in a public room. The screen comes to life with the image of Walter hustling Mulder into the billiard room, both of them frantically clutching the other in a passionate embrace. From the clothing they are wearing - at the beginning of the tape at any rate - this must have occurred shortly after our dinner party last night. I lean back in my chair and pick up my coffee cup, watching the ensuing action with interest – after years in the Lifestyle, I have lost whatever inhibitions I might have once had, and this job has reinforced my natural voyeuristic inclinations. This is also my first opportunity to see Mulder completely naked and I must admit that the boy looks incredible, particularly given his aroused condition. He is also amazingly responsive for someone so new to these games. A natural. It's not that I envy Walter - tall-and-troubled is not my preference in men or subs - but I can certainly understand the attraction.

Walter turns toward the hidden camera as he reassembles his clothing and I lean forward with a frown. That scar on his abdomen is new to me and I wonder how he acquired that. A sudden wave of nostalgia grips me; I close my eyes and see Walter standing on the other side of this desk, an anonymous invitation card in his hand and an inscrutable look on his face as I describe the purpose of this place. Then Walter is standing in the middle of my suite, his entire body stiff as I outline what my training program involves, and I find myself doubting that I _can_ train him until I look into those dark eyes and see the fire within. And all the first times: The first time I traced the scars on his body. The first time I possessed him. The first time I showed him how to surf the pain and taught him to fly. The first time I held him while he cried.

We were never lovers in that sense of the word and we didn’t become friends until after he passed out of my hands, a senior in his own right. What we had between us – what we still have – was a sense of kinship that someone who has never experienced the pain and the pleasure cannot comprehend. It is deeper than friendship, deeper than love in many ways, and binds us together. Forever.

The tape goes to black, and I sit and stare at nothing for a long time. Other memories come to mind – long nights talking and taking comfort from one another in our loneliness. His unhappy marriage was dissolving around him, his job plagued by mysterious men with hidden agendas and an irritatingly brilliant subordinate. And I was in love with my boss, a carefree and impetuous redhead who didn’t even know that I existed except as the manager of his club. And now, four years later, here we were – both of us absorbed in relationships with our fascinatingly irritating subs. Both of us content except for –

Except for his fears about Krycek and the Smoker and their plans for Mulder.

Except for my fears about Sean slipping away from me into the Unknown.

I shake my head, dispelling these thoughts, and return the tape to its case. Then, my morning work done, I turn to the other taskthat I leave for Sunday mornings when I can be undisturbed by either business or pleasure. While the center of my universe lies dreaming in blissful slumber, I log into the web and begin my tireless search for something new, something I haven’t checked out before, some hint of a therapy or – the gods willing – a cure. Something that will keep him alive and well and in my arms for just a little while longer…

* * *

 

**Monday – Feb 23 - Sean Matthews**

 

From my table in the dining room, I catch a glimpse of Mulder on his way out of the Club. He has a suit bag over one shoulder and a suitcase in the other hand as he runs down the steps to a waiting taxicab. On his way out of town apparently, something to do with his job. A brief sight of his face reassures me that this weekend – his first back at the Club after his ordeal at Benett’s hands – has been successful. One less worry on my mind.

Of course, I realize that Mulder has become more than just a fellow-sub or one of my special "watch" list. He's become a friend, the first true friend that I've had in years. And I can't help worrying about him in other ways. Before his abduction, he had seemed to be getting closer to figuring out what he wanted and needed here at the Club. Now I feel that he had retreated back inside himself, and I worry that he will never find his way out again. Oh, he seemed content in his relationship with Walter Skinner, and he _has_ returned here to play, but I feel that he will never be truly content with himself until he faces whatever it was that he both craves and fears. And I want him to be happy – both because he is my friend and because it will make Geoff less worried.

Geoff doesn’t worry about Mulder, but he _does_ worry about Walter Skinner. And, of course, Walter is absorbed body and soul with Mulder. So that makes Mulder another one of Geoff’s worries. Complicated? Perhaps, but that is one of the best things about the Lifestyle – once you become family, you are family for life. So, although I wasn’t Geoff’s boy when he was training Walter, the two of us belonged to Geoff and so we are brothers.

As I said, I wasn’t with Geoff when he was bringing Walter along, but I was around the Club and I was aware of the man. How could I not have been aware of him? The man has a kind of presence, a natural dominance that draws eyes to him when he enters the room and makes him seem larger than anyone else in the place. He intrigued me with his cool demeanor and I might have enticed him to play with me except for the fact that I was not his type. He was very specific in his playmates – tall and dark and slender, although it didn’t matter whether they were male or female. I wonder if Mulder merely fits the type or if they were all substitutes for Mulder. I shrug; it doesn’t really matter. Walter loves Mulder and the feeling appears to be mutual.

So maybe Geoff will stop worrying. I can’t help grinning at that. Geoff loves to worry – he wouldn’t be happy if he wasn’t worrying about something. I sometimes wonder if that is the source of his attraction toward me – an unlimited source of anxiety. Of course, I only think that on bad days, the ones where even getting out of bed is a major effort. On good days like today, when I feel like I’m on top of the world, I know that he loves me and I adore him.

And maybe Geoff will have something else to take his mind off his fears for me. I hope so – I would like to see him absorbed in bringing along another top, something that he is a master at, if you’ll forgive the pun. And I’d like to know that there is someone else around to take care of him when and if … Not that I intend to go anywhere for a long, long time. Still, it’d be nice to know that Geoff was in good hands.

"What’s that smile about, imp? Contemplating some new trouble?"

My anchor settles into the chair across from me and I smile with feigned innocence. "Me? I’ve been a good boy for _days_."

"I know, and that’s what’s got me worried…"

 

* * *

**Thursday – Feb 26 - Alex Krycek**

 

I hear through the grapevine that Mulder has gone back to the Club. Not from my usual source – that well dried up shortly after the time I slipped into the suite with my "borrowed" access card. You’ve got to admire that strategy the Club Management has of hiring people within the Lifestyle – nearly everyone who works there has someone else holding his or her chain. He got yanked, and hard, by his master and cut off all communication with me. Pity – he was a nice piece of ass, and I rarely get the chance to be on top these days. Yeah, my chain is pretty short, too. Witness the fact that I am on a plane bound for Russia in an attempt to steal something from our Russian "associates" that could very well cost me my life. I’d rather be _anywhere_ but here – no, that’s not quite true and I make it a policy never to lie to myself. Lie to everyone else, Alex, but to thine own self be true.

Bullshit. I’ve been lying to myself about _him_ for years.

Speaking of which, that’s another reason to regret the loss of my "friend" in Security. I would love to see that tape, the one that was immediately removed from the system and put into the Lord High Secretary’s hands. Ah, the advantages of being a top! Do what you like and where you like, so long as you don’t break the rules, and the System turns a blind eye. And you even get a little souvenir of the occasion. I can just imagine Mulder’s face when he finds out that the little escapade in the Billiard Room made him the star of his own personal porno film. I would pay money to have a copy of that tape, too, but by now the one and only copy is safely in Skinner’s hands. I wonder idly if it will cause trouble in Paradise - if I was home I could make sure that it did - but I expect that Mr. Smooth will work matters out to his satisfaction.

I catch the reflection of my face in the window and it is almost demonic in its frustrated rage. Not a particularly pretty sight at the moment. And do I care? He might as well be a million miles away from me for all it matters, so do I give a flying fuck?

Hell, yes.

And I expect that this is part of the reason that I have been sent out of the country, far away from both Mulder and the Smoking Man. It’s only a matter of time before that gentleman finds out the part that I played in Mulder’s rescue and the subsequent removal of Benett. I imagine that he already has his suspicions but proving them is another matter. My master is playing a dangerous game here but, then, he is a master at it and has been playing it for fifty years.

And I think it is time that I dealt myself a hand and got back into the game.

 

* * *

****A.D. Skinner's Administrative Assistant**   
**

**Monday, March 2**

 

"Good-morning, Kim."

He looks a little tired this morning. Not the kind of tired I see on most Monday mornings, the kind that is accompanied by a sense of quiet contentment. This fatigue speaks of long and sleepless nights spent alone. And I have the feeling from the stack of paperwork in my in box that he spent most of the past weekend here in the office. This is not a good sign and I think that this week is going to be even longer than last week.

"Morning, sir. Your schedule is on your desk – the Director has rescheduled the weekly meeting for an hour earlier than usual. I’ve rescheduled around it, and the agenda for the meeting is under the schedule." I follow him into his office, checking items off my list as he sets down his briefcase and removes his jacket. He nods absently as he listens and I know that he is making mental notes. After five years, we’ve got this down to a fine science.

He crosses to his desk and pauses at the sight of the addition to his desk, turning to look at me with a question on his face. I nod, smiling.

"Yes, sir, it arrived this morning. No card, of course."

He turns back to his desk but I catch a hint of a smile on his lips as he touches the single red rose in the bud vase. "Of course." He clears his throat and briskly moves around the desk to sit in his chair. I am glad to see that the flower has lightened his spirits.

It is a little fiction between the two of us that I am totally ignorant of the source of these rare floral gestures that arrive when a certain party is out of town. Just as I am totally unaware that a similar floral gift arrives nearly every Monday morning in an office in the basement. Not that I am involved in either exchange, but a good Admin knows his or her boss. And by now he knows that he can trust me to keep his personal business out of circulation in the Rumor pool.

Officially, I know nothing and both of us plan to keep it that way, for the sake of their jobs. Unofficially, I became aware that something significant had changed in A.D. Skinner’s life last fall although it wasn’t until earlier this year that my suspicions were confirmed. For years, the A.D. has spent long hours at the office, especially Friday nights and weekends. And then one day last August, he left early – for him - in the middle of the week. This was followed up by an early departure on Friday afternoon and he didn’t return to the office till Monday morning. I didn’t think much about it at the time, not until it became a regular pattern for the weekends following. And not until I noticed that the A.D. was coming into the office on Monday mornings with something close to a spring in his step. Suddenly I realized that he was seeing someone.

Now aware of what was going on, I started paying more attention to the phone calls that he received but I was puzzled that there didn’t seem to be any external calls that fit. So maybe he was seeing someone within the Bureau. Careful attention to the other A.D.’s and department heads turned up nothing until I noticed another anomaly. He was in the office one weekend in October and was noticeably subdued that Monday. And again in November. And the only common factor in both cases was that the X-Files team was out in the field. So I studied Agent Scully whenever she came into the office, and studied my boss whenever she was around. Nothing. Not one sign or hint of deeper feelings between them. I sighed and started to throw out all my theories and start over again but then I noticed the third anomaly just before Christmas.

They had just finished their weekly staff meeting and Agent Scully had already opened the door when I heard the A.D. say, "Agent Mulder, may I have a moment of your time?" Mulder’s reply was lost as Scully left the office, closing the door behind her, but I sat and stared at the closed door in dumb-founded amazement for a full ten minutes.

Where had _that_ tone of voice come from?

Now I have been with the A.D. since he transferred to Washington and I have heard nearly every tone of voice that the man is capable of uttering. And most of them have been directed at Agent Mulder over the course of the past four years. I have even heard that particular tone before, once, when his former wife had dropped in unexpectedly, before their marriage fell apart – a tone of gruff exasperation and affection combined together. I had never heard that tone directed at any of his agents before now.

Mulder. The A.D. was seeing Special Agent Fox Mulder.

I will admit to being completely stunned. I don’t know how I made it through the rest of the day without making a total idiot of myself. I spent most of the weekend with my mind in a loop around just one thought – A.D. Walter Skinner was gay and was involved in a relationship with Fox Mulder. How in the hell had _that_ happened?

Monday morning may not have brought any greater clarity to the picture, but it did bring a bit of perspective. I was already at my desk when the A.D. entered, and something very near a smile crossed his face.

"Good-morning, Kim."

That did it. If Fox Mulder could bring a smile like that to the A.D.’s face, then I was willing to accept anything up to and including believing in angels and aliens.

There was, of course, the flip side to this picture. I will never forget the Monday after New Year’s Eve when the A.D. received a call on his personal line and went roaring out of the office with such a look of fear and anxiety on his face that I found it hard to breathe. Agent Mulder, I thought numbly. Something has happened to Agent Mulder. Automatic reflexes kicked in and I began the routine calls to local hospitals, asking them to advise me when and if Agent Mulder was admitted. Filling out the medical paperwork for the files. Waiting by the phone for the call to come in. Breathing a sigh of relief when it did, when I learned that – once again – Agent Mulder had cheated death and was going to survive.

I took off that afternoon a little early – the A.D. being out of the office and all his appointments rescheduled – and stopped by the hospital with a floral arrangement from the Admin staff at the Hoover. The door was partly opened and I glanced inside for a moment, and was transfixed by what I saw. The A.D. was sitting beside the bed, glasses off, jacket off, tie off, holding one of Agent Mulder’s hands between both of his. I think he was talking to the unconscious man although his voice was so low that I couldn’t make out the words – not that it mattered. I knew what he was saying just from the look on his face: I’m here, Mulder. Get well, Mulder. I love you, Mulder. Tears stung my eyes and I stepped back away from the door, taking a moment to recover before I loudly knocked at the door.

At the A.D.’s gruff "Come in" I entered the room and found him standing over by the window, looking with absorbed interest down at the parking lot. He turned his head and looked vaguely surprised to see me there. I gestured with the flowers.

"The other Admins and I wanted to send something to brighten up Agent Mulder’s room. How is he, sir?"

"He’ll recover but he’s been through a bit of an ordeal."

I nodded, then took a deep breath. "Is there anything that I can do for _either_ of you, sir?"

The A.D.’s head jerked up and our eyes met across the room. I nodded, smiling slightly to show him that I knew and understood and supported him. He drew a deep breath and let it out, saying tentatively, "I may be spending a lot of time here at the hospital until Agent Mulder is better."

I had nodded briskly. "I will reschedule your appointments, sir, and let you know if there are any that I can’t reschedule." I glanced again at the sleeping man and turned toward the door. "Good night, sir. Tell Agent Mulder that he will be in all our thoughts and prayers."

"I will," the A.D. had said gravely. "And – thank you, Kim."

My wandering thoughts are recalled from my memories by a gruff summons from the inner office and I sigh to myself. Hurry home, Agent Mulder. We miss you very much.

 

 **Tuesday, March 3**

 

Tuesday morning, a full week after the X-Files team was sent to Nashville to consult on a bizarre serial killing, and I know that things are not going well. The A.D. is worried; he has been staring blankly out his window for the past half-hour. When the call comes in late in the afternoon, I can hear the anxiety in his voice as he answers. "Agent Scully? What’s wrong?"

He has the phone on speaker and I hear the cautious tones in Agent Scully’s voice. "We’re fine, sir. We’ve just run into a little...difficulty. The local office is reluctant to accept Mulder’s analysis."

"Damn it, they asked for him specifically. What _is_ his analysis, Agent Scully?"

The tone is asking if Mulder’s theory is "out there", and Scully’s tone is reassuring. "It’s a little unusual, sir, but I believe that his theory is valid. The ASAC is – well, to be frank, sir, he’s openly hostile and the SAC is now on the West Coast for a conference."

I pick up my phone and call the travel office. By the time I finish booking the flight to Nashville and arranging for a car and hotel room, I can hear the frank anxiety in Scully’s voice.

" – well, you know how difficult these cases are for Mulder."

The A.D. looks up briefly as I hand him the slip of paper with his flight information and he smiles his thanks. "I’m booked on the nine o’clock flight, Scully. I’ll meet you both at the hotel shortly before midnight."

"Thank you, sir." Scully’s voice is grateful.

"No problem, Agent. Oh – and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself until I get there." Scully replies in the affirmative and the A.D. hangs up, already in motion as he speaks. "Cancel the rest of my appointments for this week, Kim."

"Yes, sir. Good luck, sir."

Skinner’s look is grim and I feel sorry for the Nashville office. "Thank you. I’ll be back in the office on Monday – or I’ll be appointing a new ASAC in Nashville."

 

* * *

**Dana Scully**

**Tuesday, March 3**

 

Another long day, another anonymous motel room. He sits across the room from me, glasses perched on the end of his nose, cracking sunflower seeds as he studies the files yet again. It is the only noise in the room except for the soft clicking of the laptop keys as I finish my daily report.

I pause to think and find myself regarding my partner. It’s been a long, frustrating week, called in on a consultation on a serial murder case that seems to have some occult connections and then snubbed by the locals for the very reason that we were called in – because this is "Spooky" Mulder. I can see that it has had its effect on Mulder. His foot is jiggling with the pent-up energy that even his nightly run hasn’t been able to dissipate. He hasn’t eaten more than a mouthful in the last three days except for the one time when I insisted – and then he suspiciously slipped off to the restroom afterwards. I stopped pushing him to eat but I did manage to keep sports drinks on hand. And last night I’m certain I heard him choke off a scream from a nightmare. He is on edge, watching the clock and waiting for the next victim to turn up.

In the old days, I would have expected some outrageous action to follow – Mulder running off on one of his "leads", for example. Or at least a deliberate flex of the "spooky" persona, guaranteed to make the Locals look at him from out of the corner of their eyes. However, he's shown considerable restraint – so far. But if he doesn’t blow off some steam soon, all hell is going to break lose. I find myself looking at the door, waiting and listening for a knock, and I know my nerves are stretched as tight as his when an unexpected knock on _my_ door makes me jump.

I shut down my laptop and walk through the connecting door into my room, opening the door after checking to make sure that it is Skinner on the other side. "Hello, sir. Sorry to keep you waiting – I was expecting you to come to the other door."

Skinner enters, suitcase in hand, and sets it down. In a quiet voice, he asks, "Does he know I’m coming?"

I shake my head. "I didn’t think it was a good idea – in case you were late. His nerves are pretty thin by now."

"Any leads?"

"If you believe the local guys, then they arrested the man today. If you believe Mulder, there’ll be another body found in the morning."

"And you?" Skinner’s eyes are fixed on my face and I flush a little. We are both aware that I have not always agreed with my partner in the past.

"I have scheduled an autopsy for the morning," I say quietly. He nods and grips my shoulder briefly, and I know that he is saying thank you for sticking by Mulder. "Sir, he hasn’t eaten anything solid since Saturday morning, and he threw up what little he ate then." I don’t have to add ‘deliberately’ but the word hangs in the air between us. I am suddenly relieved not to have to bear the weight of this alone.

"You look exhausted, Agent Scully. You should get some rest."

I indicate my suitcase, packed and laying on the bed. "Yes, sir. As soon as I get settled in my new room."

There is a glimmer in those dark eyes, I’m not sure of what, and he holds out the key to his room. "Across the hall. Thank you, Dana."

I smile and shake my head. "Thank _you_ for coming, sir." I cross to the connecting door. "Mulder, I’ve got a special delivery for you from DC."

Mulder looks up from his files, irritated by the interruption, then his eyes go wide as he catches sight of the large figure behind me. "Walter?" Then he is off the bed, across the floor, and wrapped tight in those large arms before I have time to do more than get out of the way. "How – what are you doing here?" His voice is muffled against Skinner’s shoulder.

Skinner gives him a squeeze and releases him. "I came down to kick some ass," he growls. "Relax, Mulder – yours is not on the list this time. That is, if you’ve behaved yourself."

Mulder snorts and looks over at me. "Scully, tell Walter that I’ve been a good boy."

I pause in collecting my suitcase and smile wickedly at him. "What will you give me to lie for you?"

"Scully!" he says indignantly. "I’m always good."

"I thought we agreed not to talk about your sex life," I tease him, and Mulder flushes. They are standing there, two feet apart, not touching but desperately looking as if they want to be, and I take pity on them. I open the door and set my suitcase outside. "’Night, Mulder, sir."

I close the door, catching the flash of movement and the fragment of a muffled gruff voice "- missed you so much."

And I have no idea why this makes my throat tighten.

 

**Wednesday, March 4**

They are waiting for me in the restaurant in the morning and I am relieved to see that Mulder looks a hundred times better. He looks - anchored. Focused. I frown a little when he only orders juice and toast but Skinner doesn't seem concerned and, in fact, orders an enormous breakfast for himself. Then he starts Mulder talking about the case - the background, what he's found so far, what his theories are. That's all it takes - Mulder is off and running. Thirty minutes later, he is still talking and I open my mouth to say something - only to receive a very speaking look from Skinner.

He raises his coffee cup and asks Mulder another question about his theory on the Unsub, and Mulder pauses, his fork in mid-air. His fork. I suddenly realize that Skinner has been surreptitiously slipping the food he ordered in front of Mulder. And Mulder, his mind occupied with the case, has absently eaten his way through more food than I have seen him eat since we arrived over a week ago. I look at Skinner in amazement and grin at him in sudden appreciation of his masterful handling of the situation.

"Scully, you're grinning like you realized you won the lottery," Mulder says suspiciously. "What's up?"

I quickly focus my attention on my own coffee cup. "Nothing. Just relieved that A.D. Skinner is here.  We should be able to make headway now."

Mulder nods in agreement, then grins over at Skinner. "I'm looking forward to watching you kick some ass, sir."

"Then we had better get going." Skinner calls for the check.

Mulder suddenly becomes aware of the fork in his hand and the empty plate in front of him. He glares at Skinner, but the A.D. seems unperturbed and there is an amused look in his eyes as he returns Mulder's stare. Mulder gives up and shakes his head ruefully. "Guess I was hungrier than I thought."

"Must have been all that exercise yesterday," Skinner says blandly, and Mulder blushes. I am entranced by this picture of them and could sit here and watch them for hours but Skinner is heading towards the exit and we follow in his wake like twin shadows.

We are still following him when he enters the Nashville office and his voice echoes through the main room, commanding instant silence. "Who is in charge here?"

ASAC Morgan emerges from his office and then seems to go into shock. A.D. Skinner has that effect on people, I've noticed, and he doesn't hesitate to use it to full advantage. In minutes, he and ASAC Morgan are inside Morgan's office although I don't know why they bothered. Skinner's voice penetrates the walls and phrases like "waste of the Bureau's valuable resources" resonate while everyone else runs for cover. I glance over at the Bureau's Valuable Resource, hoping that he is enjoying this vindication, only to find that he is back at his files. I guess I can understand - after pulling Skinner down here, he really has to deliver the goods or make Skinner look like an idiot for backing him.

I'm about to settle down with my notes when Special Agent Donna White approaches us. "Agent Mulder? The local police department just contacted us. They found another body - just like the others."

Mulder and I exchange a look, and I can see the shadows behind his eyes. He was hoping that he was wrong, knowing that he was right and, because no one would listen to him, another victim has been claimed. More unnecessary guilt, more nightmares to come. I sigh and go to the closed door, knocking on it briskly. At Skinner's command to enter, I open the door and stick my head inside.

"Sir, they've located another body."

Skinner swings around and fixes his eyes on ASAC Morgan. The man has visibly wilted during his session with the A.D. and, if it is possible, now he shrivels even more. "You are relieved of duty, on administrative leave until a determination can be made as to whether you deliberately obstructed the handling of this case or merely fucked up. Dismissed."

ASAC Morgan can't get out of there fast enough and Skinner stalks into the main room, giving orders that send agents flying in all directions. Including us. I'm to head to the morgue to autopsy the body when it arrives, and Mulder is to accompany him to the site where the most recent victim has been found.

From that point on, the result is a foregone conclusion. I receive the body within an hour and have the autopsy completed by lunch. Back at the local office, I listen with amusement as the same agents who were snickering about "Spooky" Mulder earlier this week are now talking in awestruck tones about his analysis of the latest crime scene. Another chapter added to the legend, I think, and wait for my partner and boss to return. Skinner comes striding down the hallway, trench coat billowing around him with Mulder in his wake, and sets everyone to their new tasks based on Mulder's profile and his most recent discoveries.

Before noon of the next day, we have the suspect in custody and it is all over except for the paperwork.

 

**Thursday, March 5**

And by six p.m., we are sitting down to a celebratory dinner. I can see that Mulder is sliding into the next phase following the successful conclusion to a stressful case - he is depressed and silent, picking at his food. I exchange a look with Skinner.

"Mulder, you couldn't have done any better," I begin.

"This last one shouldn't have died," Mulder says stubbornly. "We could have prevented it - _I_ could have prevented it."

I sigh and prepare to argue with him, but Skinner says, quietly, "Yes. You could have. If ASAC Morgan had listened to you. But he didn't. You _did_ stop him from killing anyone else. And I'm damned proud of you, Mulder."

Mulder looks up from his plate, his eyes meeting Skinner's, and I can see him visibly relax. "Thank you, sir," he says quietly but his eyes are saying much more in a language that it is clear Skinner understands. The air is practically crackling with the electricity between these two, and I am not surprised when they cut dinner short, refusing dessert.

We part outside Mulder's door, making arrangements to meet for breakfast, then the door closes behind them and I walk slowly to my own room. It is across the hall and down two doors, and my suitcase lies open on the spare bed. I am exhausted but at the same time keyed up from the stress of the past few days, so I start the bath water and assemble all the necessary supplies for a long, luxurious soak. Two hours later, still wound up tight, I find myself thinking of my partner. The warm bath and herbal tea have failed to soothe my jangled nerves and the book I hoped would lull me to sleep has only left me bored and facing the plain truth.

I am jealous.

No, not of _them_ , exactly. But of what they have. This thing, this bond. They are so damned happy when they are together – you can see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices even when they are saying something entirely different. And I’m happy for them but also so envious that it hurts.

Maybe it's just a reaction to my recent break-up with the man I was dating, although I must admit that the feelings between us were never that strong. There was always something missing, something just not there. Something that is obviously _there_ between these two. And I want it. Badly.

Do I want it badly enough to take a risk? To explore a part of myself that both scares and excites me? I sit for a long time, staring at a small square of cardboard, my heart pounding in my chest. Dana Scully, the cautious, good girl of the family. Who went against her family's expectations to become a doctor. Who went against her father's wished to become a FBI agent. Who went against _their_ expectations to become partners and friends with Fox Mulder.

Do I have the courage to do this?

I pick up the phone and dial the number on the card. "Hello, Mr. Mason. It's Dana Scully. Could we set up a time to talk? I have a lot of questions…"

 

* * *

 

**Friday - March 6**

It was after midnight but the two men lay awake, a slender body sprawled across the larger one, enjoying the quiet and each other's presence. One large hand drifted lazily up and down along a back still damp with sweat. Gentle lips nuzzled against firm muscles while soft breath stirred the matted hair.

Mulder sighed and said, idly tracing his hand through the hair on Skinner’s chest, "So, Walter, why _did_ you come?"

Skinner glanced down at the dark head resting on his chest and said, teasingly, "Weelll, first you put your tongue down my throat, and then you put your cock-"

Mulder smacked him with mock indignation. "Get your mind out of the gutter! That’s not what I meant, and you know it!"

Skinner chuckled and planted a kiss on Mulder’s head. "Sorry – I couldn’t resist."

"You didn’t even try. Now, answer the question. Not that I don’t appreciate the ‘white-knight-to-the-rescue’ bit, but did you come roaring down here just because the bullies were picking on your fair-haired boy?"

Skinner considered his words carefully, aware of the land mines here, without giving the impression that he was hesitating. "I came here because an investigation was being stalled due to the petty attitude of a man who should never have risen to his current position. I’m not saying that I would have come here under ordinary circumstances – I probably would have dressed him down over the phone – but this was a special case. First of all, a murderer was on the loose and, according to your profile, he was escalating. Second, the investigation was being seriously compromised by the ASAC’s actions. Third, two valuable Bureau resources were being wasted. And fourth, I was worried about you, babe. I know how profiling affects you."

"So you’re saying that Scully ratted on me." Mulder frowned, starting to feel angry. "Shit, Walter – I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself."

Skinner felt the shift in Mulder’s body and rolled with him, pinning him so that he couldn’t leave the bed. "I know that. I can’t help worrying about you, though." He nuzzled Mulder’s neck.

Mulder tried to ignore the sensations that those lips were creating within him. "You’re trying to change the subject again, Walter. And seducing me won’t sidetrack me this time."

Skinner chuckled and rolled away. "Can’t blame me for trying." He sat up and looked down at his lover’s face, relieved to see that the anger had faded. "Fox, this is nothing new. I’ve _always_ been concerned about you. Did you think it was coincidence, that I just _happened_ to show up all those times in the past when you got into trouble or needed an advocate?"

Mulder’s mouth fell open and he blinked. "I thought it was just because you liked to ride my ass when I screwed up."

Skinner grinned. "Oh, I like to ride your ass," he said as a hand wandered over that part of Mulder's anatomy. "But that wasn't my motivation."

"God, Walter, you're not going to start mothering me, are you?" Mulder asked even as he pulled the bigger man's body back down over his. "Worrying about what I eat and how much I sleep and whether I'm wearing clean underwear - "

" _That_ I can promise you," Skinner said, his voice slightly muffled as he nuzzled the supple neck of his lover. "I much prefer it when you don't wear _any_ underwear."

Mulder began to laugh helplessly. "Walter, you are such a pervert!"

Skinner's response left him unable to say anything else and Mulder succumbed to his lover's attentions. But in the back of his mind he determined that this conversation was not over. Not by a long shot.


	27. True Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Information for an unexpected source could restore Mulder's faith - but can he trust the source?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Live to Tell" by Madonna and Pat Leonard. Slight spoilers for "Patient X" and "The Red and the Black", some events of which are referred to in this story for my own nefarious purposes.

_A man can tell a thousand lies_   
_I've learned my lesson well_   
_Hope I live to tell_   
_The secret I have learned_   
_Til then_   
_It will burn inside of me_

 

Skinner stood by the bed and looked down at the exhausted face of his lover sleeping in his bed. Safe again, out of the hands of the enemy - and only they knew the cost to him. When Scully had brought her partner here earlier that evening, he had been dazed and shaken and uncertain of what had happened to him. It had taken both of them to get him stripped, washed, and tucked into the bed where he had dropped immediately into an exhausted sleep. Skinner had gestured silently for Scully to head downstairs, and now brushed his lips over his sleeping lover's forehead then silently followed her downstairs.

Scully was standing hesitantly in the hallway, coat over her arm. "Sir, I should go - "

"Have you eaten yet, Scully?"

Scully blinked, taken by surprise by the question. "Um - as a matter of fact - "

Skinner gestured in the direction of the living room. "Sit. I've got lasagna keeping warm in the oven."

Scully gave up. "That sounds wonderful, sir."

She settled into a corner of the couch with a heartfelt groan, kicking off her shoes. Skinner joined her a few minutes later, handing her a full plate and a glass of wine. "Smells wonderful, sir."

"One of Mulder's favorites - probably because it doesn't contain vegetables," Skinner said, settling into his armchair with a glass. "I was expecting him this evening - only not quite like this. He looks like hell. What happened, Scully?"

There was no blame in his voice, only a shared sympathy. Scully sighed and shook her head.

"I went over to Mulder's apartment to talk to him - about the hypno-regression. He had a tip that 'they' were holding a - a rebel alien at Wickamp Air Force Base." She quickly explained what Mulder had told her.

Skinner sighed, seeing the next logical step - logical in Mulder's mind, anyway. "So Mulder decided to break into the Base."

"Well, we never actually broke in. There was a truck coming out and Mulder got in the back of it. The next time I saw it was when they brought him back to the car, looking like that.  Sir, I think they erased part of his memories again. I think he saw - something - that they don't want him to remember."

Skinner sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "The question is - will it restore his belief or will it further convince him that it's all an elaborate government hoax?"

"I don't know." Scully looked down at her wineglass, smiling slightly. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the old Mulder with his wide-eyed beliefs. It hurts to know that I helped them destroy that in him."

"Scully, you didn't know - "

"I told him that I believed that they did this to me - abducted me, gave me the cancer - because of him," Scully said quietly. Skinner nodded; Mulder had told him about the reason for their strained partnership last fall. "I sometimes think that he wouldn't have gotten involved in the Club if he hadn't had everything else knocked out from under him."

Skinner removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Perhaps not. Or perhaps it just would have delayed him acting on this need of his." He looked over at Scully. "You still don't believe that he is a victim, do you? That I'm abusing him?"

"No," Scully said then added, hesitantly, "in fact, I'm thinking - I've been talking with Geoffrey Mason - " She colored slightly, a little embarrassed. "I'm thinking about training with him." She looked over at Skinner, half-expecting to see shock or disbelief on his face.

Instead, he nodded slowly. "You have the potential, Scully, and Geoff is a great trainer. Just be certain that this is what you want before you start."

"I wanted to talk to Mulder about it, too. See how he feels about it."

"See how I feel about what?"

They both looked up to see Mulder standing in the doorway, wearing the sweats they had put him to bed in, his hair tousled and his eyes heavy from sleep.

Skinner started to get up. "Are you okay, babe? You look exhausted - are you hungry?"

"Don't fuss, Walter," Mulder said in irritated tones but crossed the room to sit at his feet and lean back against his legs. Skinner relaxed back into his chair and let his hand drift down to Mulder's head, stroking the soft hair. "You have something you want to tell me, Scully?"

Scully hesitated, uncertain how to begin what she wanted to say, and decided to put it off for the moment. "You should get some more rest, Mulder. I’m surprised you’re even on your feet."

"Something woke me up," Mulder muttered, and they both knew that the "something" was a nightmare. "I heard talking and then my name, so I decided to come down and see what you were talking about. Stop avoiding whatever it is, Scully – you both know how I hate to be managed."

Skinner chuckled softly. "Controlled, yes. Managed, no."

Mulder shrugged a shoulder. "Control is something I choose to give up. Being managed – it’s always done with that ‘I’m doing this for your own good’ attitude that I can’t stand."

Skinner’s hand gently caressed his head. "Cranky bastard. You got up on the wrong side of the bed."

"I woke up in an empty bed," Mulder murmured, closing his eyes and turning his head into the caress. "Spit it out, Scully. What are you withholding for my own good now?"

"Actually, Mulder, it’s a decision that I’m trying to make but since it may affect you I wanted to discuss it with you."

"Well, go ahead and drop the other shoe."

"I’m thinking about training with Geoffrey Mason."

Mulder’s eyes popped open and he stared at her in stunned surprise. Then, to her bewilderment and growing annoyance, he began to snicker. Scully glared at him and Skinner thumped his head warningly. "Sorry, Scully," Mulder said, but the grin on his face was not in the least bit penitent. "I was just picturing you in black leather with a riding crop in your hand. Frohike would think he died and went to heaven."

"Very funny, Mulder."

Skinner thumped his head again. "Ow!" protested Mulder. "You’re going to shake loose whatever brains I have left."

"Behave yourself, or Scully’s going to shoot you – again."

"Yes, O Lord and Master," Mulder said teasingly, dodging the next swat aimed at him. "Okay, okay. I’ll be good." He settled back against Skinner’s legs and looked over at Scully. "Seriously, Scully, if you’re sure that this is what you want, why would you think that I would object?"

"The Club has been your playground, Mulder. I don’t know how you’ll feel about me being around there – we’re bound to run into each other from time to time. I wouldn't want to make you - uncomfortable."

Mulder nodded. "I appreciate that, Scully. But it's not like you'll be seeing us performing in public." A soft chuckle from behind him reminded him of the Billiard room encounter and he flushed and hissed, "Walter! Behave!" Turning back to Scully, he said, "It will take a little getting used to, but we're both adults."

"Will it affect our partnership?"

"Not unless you start going Domme on me in the middle of a case," Mulder retorted, then his eyes widened in alarm at the thoughtful look that came over her face. "Scully - you wouldn't!"

"I don't know," Scully said pensively. "That command tone would come in handy when you start tearing off on your own. So would the riding crop."

"Shit! Walter, tell her that it wouldn't be ethical to use the Game in a Real Life situation!"

Scully grinned at him. "Gotcha!" She slipped on her shoes and stood up, gathering her coat. "Well, it's getting late and I'm wiped out. Thanks for dinner, Walter - no, don't get up. I'll let myself out. Mulder, I'll let you know what I decide, okay? See you on Monday."

They sat silently for a long time after she left, Skinner continuing his earlier stroking of Mulder's hair as the younger man leaned against his legs with closed eyes. He studied his lover, wondering what had happened to him at that base and wondering what was making Mulder sit by his feet like this. He usually didn't indulge in "sub behavior" outside the Club, except in a teasing manner. Don't make any more of it than it is, he told himself. Probably just wanted to be close and he could hardly sit in Skinner's lap in front of Scully. Not that he thought Scully would mind at this point.

Mulder opened his eyes and looked up at him with a tired smile on his face. "Is that lasagna I smell?"

Skinner smiled. "Yes. Hungry?"

"Definitely," Mulder said, crawling up and straddling Skinner's lap, then beginning to nuzzle on Skinner's neck.

"I meant for the lasagna."

"Yeah. It would make a good appetizer." The way he was nipping at Skinner's throat left little doubt of what the main course was going to be.

"Down, boy," Skinner said with a chuckle, and pushed Mulder off his lap so he could stand. Mulder followed him into the kitchen, sniffing the lasagna as it was pulled from the oven appreciatively, and pulling out plates.

Skinner poured them each a glass of wine and joined Mulder at the table, watching him attack the lasagna as if he hadn't eaten in days. Idly, he wondered if that was the truth. It had been a tough week for Mulder - first having to publicly admit his own disbelief in aliens and UFOs as anything but a government conspiracy, then all those people burned to death on Skyland Mountain and Ruskin Dam, and thinking that Scully was among them. Knowing how Mulder reacted to stress, he wouldn't be at all surprised if Mulder had lived off coffee and nerves for the past week. Not for the first time, he wished that he could have Mulder there with him all the time so that he could take care of his lover.

'Stop it', he told himself. 'Mulder doesn't need a mother - well, he does need a mother, but he doesn't need me to mother him.'

Out loud, he said. "Do you remember anything about what happened? If they wiped your memory again then you must have seen something they didn't want you to see."

Mulder frowned in thought. "There's something - something that I saw, but it's hovering at the back of my mind and if I try to look at it directly then it fades away."

"Scully said you were told that they were holding an alien - a member of another alien race rebelling against the Colonists."

Mulder nodded, his eyes on his plate. "He - my informant - told me that I had to take action or we'd all become extinct. He said that there was a planned invasion by an extraterrestrial race but that this other alien race - the ones with no faces that burned the people - were trying to resist the invasion. He told me that if the rebel they captured died then the resistance would die, too."

"This informant - was it Krycek?" Mulder nodded, still absorbed in his plate, and a slight flush crossed his face. "What is it, babe?"

"He kissed me."

Skinner closed his eyes against the sudden surge of jealousy and bit back a roar. "What?" he asked in an ominously quiet voice that didn't bode well for Krycek.

"On the cheek, Walter. And he said something in Russian and gave me back my gun." He set down his fork saying, with a frown, "I wonder what he wants."

"I know exactly what he wants," Skinner said between clenched teeth. "And I'll be dead and damned before he gets his hands on you!"

Mulder's eyes gleamed at him across the table, suddenly cat-green, and he almost purred as he said, "Jealous, Walter?"

Skinner growled and stood up, grasping Mulder's arm and pulling him against Skinner's chest. "I don't share," he said roughly. "Where did he kiss you?" Mulder touched the spot on his cheek where Krycek had kissed him and Skinner kissed the area as if to reinforce his claim. His lips moved to capture Mulder's mouth in a kiss designed to drive away any thoughts of anyone else while he crushed Mulder's body closer.

After several long moments, Mulder pushed away from his slightly, gasping for air with a breathless laugh. "God, Walter, you're so possessive."

Skinner's initial first reaction was receding and he managed a little grin. "Well, I always did get low marks in 'shares toys with others' in school. Sorry, babe."

"No need to apologize." Mulder was purring again. "All that macho dominance stuff can be a turn-on. Real cave-man stuff."

Skinner eyed Mulder speculatively, then suddenly bent and hoisted his lover across his shoulder in a fireman's carry and headed for the stairs. Mulder suddenly found himself hanging upside down and began laughing.

"Walter, you nut! Put me down!"

He was nearly helpless with laughter by the time Skinner deposited him on the bed and followed him down. Skinner's mouth descended on his and began ravaging his mouth while Skinner's hands efficiently stripped away both of their clothing. Then his mouth began cataloging Mulder's body as if reassuring the older man that all parts were present, accounted for, and still his personal property. Mulder lay back, helplessly gasping for breath under the erotic assault, loving every minute of it and wondering when he had accepted the idea of belonging to this man. It was evidently not a new feeling for when he looked at it closely it seemed to be an old and familiar friend, an accepted part of himself and not a new revelation. He had never belonged to anyone, had never mattered so much to anyone - other than Scully - but now he belonged to Walter Skinner. Moreover, that same Walter Skinner was demonstrating in a very persuasive manner just how enjoyable it was to belong to him and how determined he was that Mulder remain his. Mulder would have liked to reassure him of his intent to remain his forever - or for as long as the man continued to want him - but his lover was keeping him so off balance that he could hardly remember his own name.

The next time he was able to pull together a coherent thought, his legs were over Skinner's shoulders and his lover was poised above him, sweat glistening on taut muscles, looking like a Greek statue brought to life. Deep, dark eyes were pinning him to the bed and pulling his soul out of his body, and he willingly surrendered it.

"God, Walter - I love you so much - "

Skinner's mouth came down to possess his again and his voice was like the growl of a tiger. "Who do you belong to?"

"You - only you!"

Skinner plunged into his body, confirming the claim, and Mulder arched upwards with a growl of his own as he was filled completely. He knew that he was babbling something but it seemed so far away that he didn't care what he was saying. All he cared about was that the man he loved was pounding him through the mattress, taking him completely, and driving him to the brink of ecstasy. He stood on the edge for a moment, feeling the exquisite tightening in his entire body, then surrendered himself to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

"Walter!"

He heard the answering moan of his own name and then he plunged into blissful darkness.

When he came to several long minutes later, Skinner lay sprawled over his body, still trying to recover his breath and slow down his heart. "Damn, Fox," Skinner said in a gasping moan. "You're going to be the death of me."

Mulder chuckled weakly, exhausted but euphorically content. "But what a way to go."

"I'd rather stick around for awhile. You definitely make life interesting."

Skinner eased out of him and disposed of the condom, then crawled under the covers. Mulder settled into his arms with a contented sigh.

"Walter?"

"Hmm?" Skinner had been nearly asleep but the sound of Mulder's voice stirred him back to consciousness. That voice was sleepy but serious.

"I think I saw one. I think that's what I can't remember. If that's true - if there really are aliens and its not just the military - then maybe what I've believed for so long wasn't wrong after all."

Skinner tightened his hold on Mulder and swallowed hard against the tears that suddenly filled his throat. Something in that voice spoke of a faith restored, a quest rekindled. Part of him was terrified at the thought of Mulder heading off blindly in search of his impossible answers. Part of him rejoiced that the spark that had driven the man for so long had been rekindled. But it was the part of him that loved this man more than life that answered.

"I never thought you were wrong." He smiled as Mulder tilted his head back to look at him in surprise. "Obstinate and fool-hardy perhaps, but never wrong."

Mulder laughed softly. "I guess you really do love me after all."

"Were you ever in doubt?"

"No," Mulder said, quietly but with deep sincerity. "I've lost my faith in many things, but never in you, Walter."

Skinner had no reply for that; he could only tighten his hold on Mulder and murmur, "Good," but Mulder seemed to hear what he couldn't say. He snuggled contentedly into Skinner's shoulder, wrapping his arm around his lover's waist, and let his eyes drift closed. Skinner listened to his quiet breathing as he drifted into sleep and silently gave thanks to a god he wasn't sure that he believed in anymore. Maybe, if Mulder could find his faith restored, so could he.

* * *

 

Alex Krycek was in a good mood. He was no longer just an errand boy; he was back in the game again - even if only himself and one other person was aware of it. He had the additional satisfaction of having thrown Mulder off-balance and he savored the memory of the startled look on the other man's face. And now he was looking forward to his favorite kind of encounter, his blood racing in anticipation and his nerves already dancing. His back was still tingling from their earlier meeting on the freighter.

He opened the door to the suite at the Club and drew a deep, steadying breath before entering. As he expected, there was a figure standing at the window and he turned as Krycek entered.

"Ah, there you are, Alex."

The voice was pleasant and even in tone, but Krycek wasn't deceived. The man was still angry with him. // _Should have known that the bat-phone crack was a bad idea,_ // he thought to himself as he crossed the room to stand before his Master, his head bowed.

"I have learned from my colleagues that Agent Mulder showed up at Wiekamp so it appears that you followed my orders - for once. You'll also be pleased to know that the serum you gave me was successful in curing your former playmate. Now I'll take the other vial."

Krycek looked at him, eyes wide. "What other vial?"

The man sighed. "Don't toy with me, boy. I am not one of your targets, and I know you too well. You gave me the first vial too easily, so I know that you have another one hidden away somewhere."

Krycek shrugged and knelt to unzip his left boot, removing a small wrapped packet taped inside. "You've always encouraged me to make my own opportunities, sir."

The man took the vial in one hand, closing his other hand over Krycek's wrist and twisting it. "Not against me, boy. You try your tricks on me again and you'll find that there are worse fates than being shut up in a silo. You are playing with fire, Alex - be sure that you don't burn yourself."

Krycek grimaced at the pain but managed a mocking glare at his employer, his Master. "If I may say so, Sir, so are you. If they find out what you're up to - well, let's just say that the less said about the Consortium retirement plan, the better."

"Are you threatening me, Alex?" the man demanded. "Perhaps you have forgotten just who is the Master in this relationship."

Krycek's eyes blazed with emerald fire and he smiled cat-like as he purred, "Then perhaps you had better remind me - sir."

"With pleasure, Alex. With pleasure."


	28. Game Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner go to San Antonio for basketball and recuperation from a stressful month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "They Can't Take That Away From Me" by George and Ira Gershwin. All sites talked about in San Antonio are real. Special thanks to Mikaela for her help with information on the Final Four Championship in 1998 – any mistakes made in this story are mine and – um - were deliberate to further the plot (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it).

_The way you wear your hat, the way you sip your tea_   
_The memory of all that -_   
_No, they can't take that away from me._   
_The way your smile just beams, the way you sing off key_   
_The way you haunt my dreams -_   
_No, they can't take that away from me._

 

The waitress spared a glance at the two men sitting at the corner table, expertly gauging whether they needed a coffee refill or planned to order anything else, and found herself smiling. Not only because the two were easy to look at but also because of the expressions on their faces. The older man was sipping his coffee and surveying the younger man with patient amusement while the younger man was obviously very excited about whatever he was discussing. His hand movements left very little doubt in her mind that the evening’s semi-final basketball games were the subject under discussion. Coffeepot in hand, she approached the table.

"More coffee, gentlemen?"

The older man shook his head and raised an inquiring eyebrow at his companion who paused in mid-sentence to glance down at his cup and plate as if he had never seen them before now. The other man smiled and turned back to the waitress.

"I think we’re fine. May I have the check, please?"

"Certainly." She produced the bill and set it on the table. "I’ll take that whenever you’re ready."

Mulder waited till the waitress had moved out of earshot before saying softly, "Sorry, Walter, I didn’t mean to go on and on like that."

"No problem. They were great games, and I enjoy hearing you talk. So who do like for the final – Kentucky or Utah?"

"Are you kidding? Kentucky’s going to run circles around Utah! They’ve won two of the past three years and they are the favorites."

Skinner shook his head. "But Utah beat the defending champions and surprised everyone. They were great in the semi-finals against North Carolina while Kentucky just squeaked by in overtime. I think Utah’s going to pull off an upset."

Mulder leaned in a little closer, an impish light gleaming in his eyes. "Care to make a little wager on that, Walter?"

Skinner paused, coffee cup halfway to his lips, and studied Mulder warily. "What do you have in mind? Fifty?"

"Nothing as mundane as money, big guy! Loser becomes the winner’s sex slave for 24 hours?"

Skinner snorted. "You’re already my sex slave, _Kitten_ , so where’s the fun in that?" He eyed Mulder speculatively, and the younger man began to feel nervous. "Loser has to wear the cock harness under his suit to work on Friday."

Mulder was wary. "And if I win and you have to wear it? No retribution or paybacks?"

"Agreed."

"OK." Mulder grinned at Skinner. "And to think that all these years I never knew how incredibly kinky you are."

"Complaining?"

"Never. I’m becoming quite fond of your kinks."

Skinner casually laid his hand over Mulder’s and stroked his thumb against the sensitive skin on his wrist, feeling the pulse rate increase. "Good. Because there’s a lot more that you haven’t seen. Yet."

Mulder swallowed and carefully turned his hand over, flexing his fingers against Skinner’s palm. "Anything you’d care to show me tonight, Walter?"

Skinner felt his breath catch at the sensation of Mulder’s nails running over his skin and growled, "Careful what you ask for, boy."

Mulder laughed softly, loving the way that Skinner’s eyes caught fire under his subtle caress. "Too tired, old man? Six hours sitting on your ass wear you out?"

"I’ll show you who’s an ‘old man’, brat, and it’s your ass that’ll be worn out."

"Promises, promises." Mulder withdrew his hand and flicked a look at Skinner from under his lashes that made the older man suddenly rock hard.

"Upstairs. Now!"

"Your wish is my command. Sir."

Mulder rose from the table and sauntered toward the door as Skinner dropped a couple bills on the table to take care of the check and tip. Skinner caught up with him at the elevators, silently damning the crowded lobby and elevator that kept him from being able to grab Mulder and bestow the kind of mind-numbing kiss that would wipe that smug look off the younger man’s face. Mulder’s eyes laughed back at him, knowing just exactly what he was doing to his lover and anticipating the retribution that would shortly follow. Arriving at their suite first, Mulder slid his electronic key into the lock then, hearing it click, threw open the door and sprinted for the safety of the bathroom. He never made it.

Skinner brought him down with a flying tackle, knocking the breath out of the younger man, then proceeded to strip his lover. Mulder lay laughing helplessly as clothes went flying in every direction, his amusement fueled by the nearly feral look in Skinner’s eyes. He managed to slide his hand into the pocket of his jeans and retrieve the lube stashed there before the pants were skimmed off and tossed aside. Then his throat and chest and abdomen were being attacked by a series of nips and hard sucks that he was certain would show up the next day but he was beyond caring. Skinner rolled him over onto his stomach to similarly mark his back and buttocks and thighs and Mulder was gasping and laughing weakly, unable to stop. Over onto his back again and his nipples were the next target, sucked into a possessive mouth that proceeded to claim every inch of his body. His laughter switched to helpless groans and whimpers. Back onto his stomach again, demanding hands pulling his ass up into the air, and then those hands were pulling his cheeks apart and the feeling of air breathed over his anal opening made him moan and wiggle toward the hot mouth he knew was back there.

"God, Walter, please!"

A sharp swat on his ass. "I didn’t say you could move, brat."

Mulder forced his body to stillness and was rewarded with another warm breath. "Permission to speak, sir?"

"No. You may groan, moan, scream, cry, or make as much noise as you’d like, but you may not speak. Understood?"

Mulder nodded his head and waited again. He was rewarded again by that warm breath, followed up by the deliberate pressure of a tongue, and a long moan was dragged out of him. He knew this mood from prior experience and knew that Skinner was deliberately toying with him. It would be a long, long night unless - He moaned again, deliberately, followed up by some of the inarticulate noises that he knew drove Skinner right up the wall. A catch in the breathing of the man behind him told him that he was successful and he grinned to himself. Two could definitely play this game, he thought smugly, then gasped - his lover had just upped the ante and his tongue was doing incredible things to Mulder's body, so incredible that Mulder could barely remember the order to remain still. He wanted to beg, to plead with the other man to take him _now_ and end this agony, but he was reduced to helpless whimpering. That seemed to do the trick, however, as Skinner's mouth moved away to be replaced by a larger presence. Thank God! thought Mulder fervently, pressing back against Skinner's cock as he deliberately relaxed his muscles to allow the steady penetration. He drew a deep, shaky breath as Skinner was fully sheathed within him.

Skinner leaned over to murmur in Mulder's ear, "All right?" and, at the other man's affirmative nod, dropped a kiss at the base of his neck and began the slow, deliberate movement in and out of the willing body underneath him. Mulder groaned and, impatient with the slow fucking he was receiving, pushed back, driving Skinner deeper into his body. That was all it took - Skinner gasped and swore, then gripped Mulder's hips firmly and began pounding into him with swift, hard thrusts. Mulder could feel the tension winding up within his own body, saw the white lights begin to flash behind his closed eyelids, and tumbled over the edge with a long, wailing scream. Dimly, he was aware of his name coming out in gasps from the man behind him, then Skinner shuddered and collapsed across his back.

They were both still for a long moment, trying to catch their breath and still their racing hearts. Mulder laughed a little breathlessly from both fatigue and the weight on his back. "God, Walter, you are such an animal."

Skinner chuckled, carefully withdrawing from his lover's body. "Complaints?"

"Never." Mulder rolled over on his back, lazily stretching and looking for all the world like a cat. Skinner had a feeling that if he reached out to rub the younger man’s belly that he would start purring. "Have I ever told you what a great lover you are?"

Skinner chuckled again. "Have you been reading Scully’s Cosmos again?"

"I’m hurt – you think I couldn’t come up with that on my own?"

Skinner was about to apologize when he saw the mischievous twinkle in Mulder’s eyes. "Brat," he growled, pouncing on Mulder to tickle him mercilessly until Mulder begged him to stop between howls of laughter. He got to his feet and held out a hand to help Mulder up. "Shower?"

"Mmm," Mulder agreed. "Then bed." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Skinner.

"You are insatiable," Skinner said with a snort. "You keep that up and you won’t be able to sit for the finals Monday night."

"It’s worth the sacrifice," Mulder said, grinning, as he turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. "Or you could be on the bottom."

"Okay," Skinner said agreeably, getting into the shower. Mulder followed a moment later, picking up the soap and washcloth. He was quiet as he worked the soapy cloth over Skinner’s chest. "What?" Skinner asked softly. Mulder shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Fox, if we’re going to make this work, we’ve got to talk whenever a problem comes up."

"It’s not a problem," Mulder insisted, moving downward with the cloth, carefully cleaning Skinner’s genitals before moving down the muscular legs. "It’s just – I still find it hard to believe that you’ll let me – do that."

Skinner tugged gently but insistently on Mulder’s hair, and Mulder reluctantly rose so that they were standing face to face. Skinner took the washcloth and began washing Mulder. "Why?" he asked, curiously. "It feels great and you’re a good lover, too. Why shouldn’t I let you fuck me?"

"It’s just – you’re so into control scenes and you’re so damned good at it. I – when you turn that control over to me – it’s just amazing. And you do it so easily – that’s what’s really incredible. Walter Skinner flips a switch and goes from being the King of Tops to compliant bottom. I can’t do that. The one time I tried to top you, I had to really work at it and then I screwed up at the end."

Skinner shook his head but decided that this was going to be a long discussion. "Let’s finish up and take this discussion into the other room." He scrubbed Mulder’s hair, loving the feel of it under his fingers, and rinsed them both before shutting off the water. Mulder grabbed a large towel and began drying Skinner, and Skinner wondered again at this surfacing of his sub-personality away from the Club but decided to say nothing at the moment. He wrapped the towel around his waist and went into the bedroom. Putting on the thick robe provided by the hotel, he sat on the bed and waited for Mulder. The younger man emerged from the bathroom a moment later, also wrapped in a robe and toweling his thick hair. Skinner patted the bed beside him and Mulder sat down a little warily.

Skinner smiled. "Relax, Fox. I’m not going to bite you."

A glimmer of a smile lit Mulder’s face and he seemed to visibly relax. "But I like it when you bite me."

"Imp," Skinner said affectionately. He scooted back against the headboard, pulling his legs up onto the bed, and gestured for Mulder to join him. Mulder crawled up and snuggled into his shoulder with a contented sigh. "Babe, you sound a little confused. Being a top or a bottom is not necessarily the same as being a Dom or a sub, although people do use the terms interchangeably. There are plenty of Doms who enjoy being fucked without giving up a bit of control. Personally, I like to think of ‘top’ or ‘bottom’ as the role during sex, and ‘Dom’ or ‘sub’ as the role during a scene."

Mulder considered that, then nodded. "Okay, I can deal with that."

"So while you may not feel comfortable Dominating me during a scene, that has nothing to do with topping me in bed. Which - as I recall from a very memorable holiday - you are very good at."

Mulder grinned. "Flatterer. You're just saying that to get in my pants."

Dryly, Skinner said, "Been there, done that. Besides," he murmured into Mulder's ear, "I want you in _my_ pants. Not to mention other places."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Skinner nuzzled his neck. "I can't wait to feel you deep inside me, so deep that I don't know where I end and you begin. I want to feel you pounding into me until I come shouting your name. I want to watch your face as you come inside me, my name on your lips."

"Jesus, Walter," Mulder groaned and pushed Skinner flat, rolling on top of him. Skinner found himself being ruthlessly kissed and tongued over every inch of his body, the subject of Mulder's focused concentration, without any hint of the previous doubts in the younger man's actions. He gave himself up to his intense lover, reveling in the sensations that the other man was able to wring from him with just the slightest touch. And later, after his lover had dropped into an exhausted and sated sleep, he drifted off to sleep with his arms wrapped around Mulder and only a slight nagging worry in his mind.

* * *

 

They ate breakfast on their private balcony overlooking the river. Skinner sipped his coffee and wondered what kind of connections Mulder's friends must have to secure this suite at La Mansion del Rio just a month before the finals. He wondered what all this was costing Mulder; he had offered to share the cost but Mulder had assured him that he could handle it. Skinner suspected that Mulder had extensive financial resources - considering his family background, the nice suits that he went through like water, and his lack of concern over past suspensions without pay.

He studied the man across the table from him with a smile. "What do you want to do today?"

Mulder returned his smile. "How are your rock-climbing skills?"

Skinner looked at him blankly. "What?"

Mulder got up and went to the nightstand, picking up a brochure. "The Enchanted Rock - it's a 325 foot high peak connected with paranormal phenomenon. Local Native Americans have reported spirits communing there for over a century. It'd only take a couple hours to climb." He studied the stunned look on Skinner's face. "Too much? Well, there's an air duct near downtown that's reported to be haunted - "

Skinner tackled him, tickling him until Mulder begged for mercy. Skinner sat up and looked down at Mulder, lying on his back on the floor still trying to recover, flushed from laughing, his robe half-open from their tussle. He was amazed anew that this beautiful man was with him, that somehow no one had grabbed this incredibly smart and funny and sexy man and held onto him. Certainly Mulder had his problems - he was moody and insecure and stubborn - but the benefits were more than worth it.

Mulder had stopped laughing and was looking up at him questioningly. Skinner leaned over and kissed him gently.

"Mmm," Mulder murmured, wrapping his arms around Skinner. "I take it you're voting for staying in and fucking like bunnies?"

Skinner chuckled. "As appealing as that sounds, I'd like us _both_ to be able to sit during the game tomorrow. How about we play tourist? Have you ever visited San Antonio before this?"

"VCU on a consult. I didn't exactly see the highlights."

Mulder's voice was a little bleak and Skinner's heart ached for him. He caressed Mulder's cheek lovingly. "Then it'll be a first for both of us. What do you want to see?"

"How about I consult with the concierge and get her recommendations? She was really helpful with dinner reservations for tonight."

"So - where _are_ you taking me for dinner?"

"Uh-uh. That's a surprise." Mulder got up and went to the phone to call the concierge while Skinner went to shower and shave.

"All set," Mulder said, joining him at the sink. "The concierge will have an itinerary, passes, and a picnic basket with champagne when we're ready."

Skinner raised an eyebrow. "How did you manage that?"

Mulder laughed. "My irresistible charm, of course."

"Should I be jealous?"

"She's not my type." He grinned at Skinner. "Not unless she's tall, muscular, and follically challenged."

Skinner growled good-naturedly. "Watch it, brat." Mulder grinned at him unrepentantly and they finished dressing in companionable silence.

They spent the day playing tourist, with Mulder as his own private tour guide through the Alamo - the man never forgot anything he had read, Skinner thought in amusement. They ate a leisurely picnic lunch in Brackenridge Park and wandered through the Japanese Tea Gardens, taking advantage of a deserted pathway and a conveniently placed bridge for a little necking. They went to the top of the Tower of the Americas to take in the panoramic view of San Antonio. They stopped in Veterans Park at the Vietnam War Memorial where Skinner soberly studied the statue of a marine holding a wounded comrade while looking skyward for the evac helicopter.

A warm hand on his shoulder brought him back from his painful memories and he turned his head toward his companion who was studying him with concerned and knowledgeable eyes. "Are you all right?"

Skinner nodded and gripped Mulder's hand gratefully. "Too many memories," he said quietly.

Mulder slid his arms around Skinner's waist from behind and asked quietly, "Anything you want to talk about?"

Skinner hesitated and then shook his head. "Not yet. Soon, though. Okay?"

Mulder nodded and released him, glancing down at his itinerary to give Skinner a moment to collect himself. "The concierge recommended La Villita next. It's in the historic district and has shops with working artists and craftsmen."

"Sounds good," Skinner said briskly and they spent a couple hours wandering through the shops, picking up little gifts for Anne Skinner and Scully, before returning to their hotel to shower and change before dinner.

* * *

 

Midnight, and the two men strolled slowly along the Riverwalk back toward their hotel. They were quiet as they walked but it was a companionable quiet, an easy silence between them, and their shoulders brushed as they walked side by side. Lush green foliage lined the banks of the river, the walkways were shaded by towering cypresses, oaks and willows, and the scent of flowers filled the air. At this time of night the crowds weren't as heavy as they had been earlier but the walkway was well lit.

Skinner smiled as he thought back over the evening. Mulder had taken him to a jazz club on the river called Jim Cullum's Landing where the food had been marvelous and the music superb. Much as Skinner had enjoyed both, he had been even more entranced by his favorite hobby: Mulder-watching. He had been surprised at how much Mulder had enjoyed the music - he hadn't thought about Mulder being a jazz fan. But Mulder had certainly enjoyed it, and Skinner had enjoyed both the music and watching Mulder enjoy it. The memory of New Year's Eve and their dance at the Club came back to him, and he regretted that this wasn't a dance club. He thought that he should really take Mulder out to one of the gay clubs in DC sometime and wondered if that would make Mulder uncomfortable. Although Skinner had made occasional discreet forays into the gay community, particularly since his marriage ended, he had a feeling that Mulder hadn't. It was something that they would have to talk about.

"Thoughts worth a penny?"

Skinner looked sideways at Mulder with a smile. "Well, since I was thinking about you, I'd say they were worth a lot more than a penny."

Mulder tilted his head and looked at his lover curiously. "Anything you care to share?"

"About how much I enjoyed this evening. About how much you continue to surprise and amaze me."

Mulder grinned. "Keep them guessing - that's my motto."

"I thought your motto was 'Trust No One'."

"Not anymore. I had to change it after I fell in love with you - 'Trust No One But Walter Skinner' is too long for a motto."

For some reason, that simple statement overwhelmed Skinner, joy bursting out from the still waters of his affection like a geyser. Taking advantage of a shadowy corner of the walkway, he pulled Mulder into his arms and proceeded to rob the younger man of both breath and ability to speak. Mulder emerged from the tempestuous embrace slightly disheveled and glassy-eyed, and clung weakly to Skinner for support.

"What in the hell was _that_ for? Not that I'm complaining - I'd just like to remember to do whatever I did more often."

Skinner chuckled and traced Mulder's bottom lip with one finger, his other arm still wrapped around Mulder's waist. "Just for being _you_ , Fox Mulder. Have you any idea how incredible you are?"

Mulder looked at him skeptically. "And how much exactly did you drink tonight while I wasn't looking?"

Skinner thought that he should have been offended but the geyser was still bubbling inside him, drowning out all negative thoughts and emotions. So he merely pulled Mulder back into his arms and proceeded to do his damnedest to drive out the self-doubts and fears of his lover. And, judging from Mulder's response both there and back in their suite, he was successful, at least for the moment.

* * *

Tuesday evening, and Skinner closed the door to his apartment with a sigh, shrugging off the trappings of another long workday. That was the only trouble with being out of the office, even if it was only for a day - the work piled up until you needed another vacation just to recover from the stress of coming back to work. It was almost enough to make him return to his previous habit of only taking vacation when forced to do so. However, the picture of Fox Mulder stretched out on a secluded Mediterranean beach looking almost naked in a Speedo was enough to firm up his resolution to take his planned vacation the following month. He only wished that a semi-naked Mulder were here, lying on his bed upstairs, instead of halfway across the city in his own apartment.

Skinner sighed and pushed away the depression that threatened. After all, he had just spent three wonderful days and nights with his lover: he was being greedy to want more. But at the moment he didn't care - he wanted to be greedy and selfish and indulge in all the pleasures that he had pushed aside for the last few years. More than that, he wanted to indulge Mulder in every form of happiness that the man had lacked over the past twenty-some years.

A knock at the door jerked him out of his mental picture of Mulder the past Christmas, face alight with joy, and for a moment he half-imagined that his subconscious longing had drawn the man halfway across town to his side. Upon opening the door, however, he found a courier standing in the hallway with a small package in his hands.

"Walter Skinner?"

At Skinner's confirming nod, the man handed him a clipboard to sign and then gave him the package. Skinner examined the outer envelope curiously, feeling the soft package give easily as the contents shifted inside. With a deep sense of foreboding, he took the package inside and opened it. A collection of leather straps fell out into his hand, accompanied by a brief note.

"Walter, I look forward to _seeing_ you on Friday. All day. And at your place, 8 PM. Remember - no reprisals or paybacks. FWM."

Skinner sighed. Somehow, he had the feeling that Friday was going to be a very _long_ day.


	29. Everlasting Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner honors a wager, and Sean and Mason celebrate a special occasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Far Longer than Forever" from the Swan Princess.

_Sure as the dawn brings the sunshine, we've an unshakable bond_   
_Destined to last for a lifetime and beyond_   
_Far longer than forever I swear that I'll be true_   
_I've made an everlasting vow to find my way to you_   
_Far longer than forever like no love ever known_   
_And with your love I'll never_   
_Be alone._

 

"Are we keeping you up, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder's head jerked up and he realized that he had been so lost in thought about the previous weekend that he had missed what Skinner had been saying. He flushed. "Sorry, sir. I was just thinking about something."

"Anything to do with this case? Or is that too much to hope for?"

Mulder reflected that Skinner seemed to be a little out of sorts this morning and sharp eyes noted the slight shift in his chair, as if trying to get comfortable. He suppressed an inward chuckle but assumed a bland expression. "I think it is possible that the destructive events were the result of a poltergeist."

"Mulder, if you say 'They're here!', I'll throw this file at you."

"Actually, sir, this kind of random psychic activity focused around a teen or pre-teen is a common component of the poltergeist phenomenon," Scully said.

"That, or she could be doing this deliberately with the help of friends," Mulder added.

Skinner stared at the two of them and shook his head. "I give up. If you two are going to switch sides like this, I haven't got a chance." He signed the 302. "When do you leave?"

"Monday morning," Scully said. "I promised Geoff that I'd be there for the ceremony tomorrow."

Mulder nodded. "We'll be there, too."

"Are you planning to arrive there tonight?" Scully asked.

Skinner hesitated. "No, tomorrow morning. I have - prior plans for this evening." He carefully avoided Mulder's eyes. "Well, if that's all, agents - "

"Sir, may I have a moment?"

Skinner sighed and removed his glasses. The flat tone and the bland look on Mulder's face didn't fool him in the least - he knew what mischief Mulder was up to just from the twinkle in his eyes. "Very well."

Scully glanced at Mulder as she passed and that silent communication passed between them before she left the office, closing the door behind her.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder didn't answer as he crossed to the door and quietly locked it, then turned back toward Skinner. The older man stood, mesmerized, as Mulder slowly crossed to room back toward him. His only coherent thought was that his parents had misnamed him - this was no fox but a panther, sleek and deadly.

"Mulder - " he said warningly.

Mulder held up his hand, gesturing for silence, and pulled a device out of his pocket. He flicked a switch and set it on the desk, grinning over at Skinner. "A present from the guys. It's a jammer - any video or audio devices within a fifteen foot radius are going to be going nuts about now."

Skinner crossed his arms. "Very interesting. Now would you mind telling me why you locked my door and why you think you need to prevent anyone from seeing or hearing what's going on in here?"

Mulder grinned and hopped up onto the side of Skinner's desk. "I wanted to make sure that you followed our agreement. The bet, remember?"

"How could I forget? And I suppose that you just expect me to drop my pants and show you?"

Mulder grinned again. "That's the general idea."

"Forget it, Mulder."

Mulder raised an eyebrow. "Welshing on a bet, sir? And one that you suggested as well?"

"Are you saying that you don't believe me, Kitten?"

Mulder swallowed convulsively at the growling tone in Skinner's voice, his eyes widening as Skinner advanced on him. Before he could move, he found himself trapped, Skinner's legs forcing his apart, Skinner's hands to either side of his thighs as he sat on the desk. Skinner leaned in closer and Mulder couldn't look away from those piercing dark eyes.

"Do you think I am not a man of my word?"

"N-no, sir."

"Perhaps you need proof?"

"Um - "

Skinner grabbed Mulder's left hand in his right one and drew it up to his mouth to nip at the fingers before pulling the hand around to his ass and rubbing Mulder's fingers over the strap.

"Feel that? Do you remember that strap? The one that ran from the one around your waist, between your ass cheeks, and attached under your balls to that pretty cock-cage?"

Mulder drew in a deep breath, his eyes dilating in a sudden rush of memory. "God, yes!"

Skinner took the other hand and placed it on the front of his pants. "Feel that?" he murmured and saw from the convulsive swallow that Mulder did. He nipped at Mulder's neck above his collar. "Remember how the harness looked on your own body? That's how it looks on mine." Mulder moaned and turned his head blindly, seeking Skinner's mouth, but Skinner avoided his searching mouth. "Think of it: my cock, confined and waiting for you to release me. Tonight." He brushed his lips over Mulder's, bestowing a light kiss but not allowing Mulder to deepen it.

Skinner drew back, satisfied at the evidence of Mulder's arousal by the glazed look in Mulder's eyes and the tenting of his well-cut slacks. He picked up the jamming device and switched it off, holding it out to Mulder. "I believe that will be all, Agent Mulder."

"Um - right." Mulder seemed to be having trouble breathing, not to mention moving, so Skinner kindly helped him down from the desk. Mulder walked to the door in a dazed state, unlocked and opened it.

"Agent Mulder?"

Mulder turned back to look at Skinner. "Sir?" His voice sounded thin to his own ears.

"Your casefile, Agent Mulder." Skinner came around the desk with the folder, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Mulder took the file folder, carefully holding it in front of himself as he quickly made his way down to the safety of his office.

* * *

Skinner heard the door open and slam shut. "In the kitchen, Mulder!" he called out.

He heard the clatter of bags being set down, then found himself being spun around and pinned against the kitchen wall by his wild-eyed lover. "Fox?"

"Hush!" A hot mouth devoured his own mouth while impatient hands made quick work of his shirt and jerked his pants down to his ankles. "Do you know how crazy you made me earlier today? Do you think I got any work done after that? Scully was laughing her ass off all afternoon." Mulder nipped at his neck, then slid down to his knees, his hands skimming down Skinner's body to cup his ass. "My God, Walter!" Mulder breathed, gazing at his lover's cock encased in its leather cage. It was even more incredibly hot looking than his afternoon fantasies had imagined. "You are so beautiful." He quickly unfastened the straps, releasing Skinner's cock, and tossed the harness aside before leaning forward to take the half-hard cock into his mouth.

Skinner groaned and grasped for something to hold onto as that talented mouth took him in deeply, working him over. Mulder was obviously not in the mood for slow and teasing tonight but instead seemed determined to drive Skinner out of his mind as quickly as possible. And he was succeeding. Skinner's head fell back and he could no longer keep his eyes open as his lower body stopped responding to his brain and instead obeyed the hands and mouth possessing him. He gasped, and then a moan was rung out of him.

"God - babe - so good - "

Mulder intensified his attention. Skinner felt the fire begin to burn deep within, fire that raced up his spine to make his brain explode while his hips jerked involuntarily with their need for release. Then Mulder was doing that incredible move with his tongue and Skinner threw back his head, crying out his lover's name as he came deep within his lover's mouth.

When he came back to himself, he was sitting bare-ass on his kitchen floor with Mulder's talented mouth in his lap as he cleaned him up. He could almost swear that the man was purring. He tugged gently at Mulder's hair and Mulder sat back, grinning at him in a self-satisfied way.

"Brat," Skinner said faintly. "You are getting entirely too good at that."

"You have only yourself to blame, O Great Teacher." Mulder helped him to his feet and carefully tucked him back into his pants.

Skinner reached out to hug Mulder close with a mock sigh. "Then I guess I'll just have to get used to it."

Mulder chuckled and kissed his lover. "Walter?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up and take me to bed."

* * *

Mulder tapped on the door and Sean called for him to enter. He found the small, red-haired man pacing the room, dressed in a robe.

"Nervous?"

"What do _you_ think?" Sean raked a hand through his hair. "I just want to get this _over_ \- waiting is the hardest part."

Mulder nodded. "Sit." He moved behind Sean and began massaging his shoulders. "Relax, buddy. You _know_ that being tense is the worst thing you can do."

Sean sighed and dropped his head forward, deliberately relaxing. "Yeah, I know." He sat quietly for a moment, letting Mulder's skillful fingers massage his tight shoulder muscles. "Thanks for being here for me, Mulder."

"That's what friends are for. So, where is the brand going?"

"There'll be two of them. A large one - Geoff's insignia - on the back of my right shoulder. That's the public brand. Then I'm getting a small, personal brand on my ass - Geoff's initials linked together."

Mulder slowly moved his fingers up Sean's neck, massaging his scalp. "How many strikes?"

"Five - two for the small one, three for the large." He drew a deep, relaxing breath. "That's much better. Thanks, mate."

As Sean sat back up, Mulder caught a flash of light and touched the diamond stud in Sean's right earlobe. "That's new."

Sean grinned and touched the earring, his face lighting up. "Yeah. It’s an anniversary present. Geoff's wearing the matching one in his left ear. He got it pierced just for me."

There was a tap on the door and Sean stood up. "Show time."

There was a crowd waiting in the private dining room and they turned with a smile as Sean entered with Mulder at his back. Mason beckoned Sean to join him and held up his hand for silence.

"I want to thank all our friends and family for joining us on this special occasion in our lives. As you know, today is the third anniversary of the day that Sean consented to become part of my life. It's been an interesting three years - " He paused and smiled at Sean. "Exciting, passion-filled, exasperating sometimes - " There was a little laughter at this. "But I'm grateful for every minute and hope that there will be many, many years ahead.

"Anyone who knows Sean knows what a generous, giving person he is, especially towards those he loves. In recognition of this special occasion, Sean has asked my permission to receive a permanent symbol of the bond between the two of us, and I have agreed. At the present time, those of us in 'non-traditional' relationships have no legal ceremonies to show our commitment. So we have to make our own ceremonies, use our own rituals. This is what Sean and I have chosen to express to each other and to our friends that this isn't a game. This is forever.

"So, here in the presence of our friends and family, Sean will receive two brands. The first is a public recognition of the relationship between the two of us here, Sean accepting me forever as his master. The second is a personal vow between us."

He turned to Sean and took the smaller man's face between his hands. "Sean, you have asked for my mark to be placed on you with the full understanding that this is forever. From this point on, we will belong to each other - beyond the Rules of this club or the Laws of this world. If you have changed your mind, say so now and I swear that it will not in any way diminish the love I have for you."

"I haven't changed my mind," Sean said firmly then, in a soft voice that only Mason could hear, murmured, "You talk too much, Geoff. I'm dying here. Let's get _on_ with it."

"Brat," Mason said affectionately and kissed him gently. Then he untied the robe and removed it.

They settled Sean face-down on the padded table in the middle of the room. Mason and Skinner fastened the wrist and ankle restraints securely as well as a strap across his waist to keep him still. Mulder settled onto the floor by Sean's head, his task to coach Sean and keep him centered. Scully put on latex gloves to sterilize and prepare the first area to be branded. She scrubbed the area on his shoulder twice and then nodded to Mason and stepped back.

Mason studied the first area to be branded as he pulled on a glove to protect his hand from the hot iron. His other hand gently stroked up and down Sean's spine, focusing the other man's attention on his mate. Mason could tell the moment that Sean relaxed and he reached out his gloved hand toward Skinner for the first brand. Mason deftly placed the metal against the smooth skin on Sean's shoulder. Sean gasped but Mulder's hands went to either side of his face, stilling him during the five-second count. The procedure was repeated twice more as the first brand took shape, and each time Mason stroked Sean till he relaxed before striking with the next iron.

There was a short pause as Scully prepared the second area and Mulder studied his friend anxiously. Sean was holding up well, his eyes slightly unfocused and glazed as his body processed the pain and refocused it into pleasure. The first of two strikes on the smaller brand was set and an audible groan escaped his lips.

"Hold on, buddy," Mulder murmured, wiping the sweat off Sean's forehead before it could run into his eyes. "One more."

Sean gasped and nodded, holding onto the edges of the pleasure/pain. _One more_ , he thought, one more. And then it came again, the burn and the sharp pain of it, and it was too much, too good, and he was falling over the edge…

When he came to, Scully had nearly finished applying silvadine cream to his burns and covering them with sterile pads. His wrists and ankles had been released and there was a lovingly familiar hand caressing his back while his lover's voice murmured endearments. He sighed, blissfully, and let them help him up. He swayed on his feet, felt a strong arm come around his waist and a concerned voice in his ear.

"You okay, baby?"

"Oh, yeah," Sean said with another blissful sigh. "I'm better than okay."

Skinner chuckled. "He's flying, Geoff. You won't get any sense out of him for hours."

Mason laughingly agreed and wrapped Sean back up in his robe while the catering staff began distributing refreshments. The party began in earnest and Sean was swept into a crowd of well wishers. After a short time, Mulder joined Skinner and Skinner slid his arms around his lover's waist, pulling Mulder's back against his chest. Mulder settled against him with a contented sigh, then softly laughed.

"What?" Skinner asked with a smile.

"Sean." They both looked over at the red-haired man who was talking with a group of people, his hands gesturing wildly. "I don't think I've ever seen him this hyped."

"It's the endorphins."

"Yeah, well, he's flying so high now that he practically needs an air traffic controller to guide him in."

Skinner chuckled and pressed a kiss against the side of his neck. "Well, he's certainly feeling no pain."

Mulder nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, and that's bizarre. I mean, he basically got second-degree burns, passed out from the pain of it, and there he is higher than a kite. I've burned myself before and I certainly didn't get off on the pain."

Skinner shook his head, wondering how to explain it to his sub who was, when you considered it, still pretty new to all this. "He didn't pass out from the pain but from the pleasure, like from a really intense orgasm." At Mulder's disbelieving look he said, "Pain that is slowly and expertly administered can cause exquisite and unbelievable pleasure. The pain combined with the touches and verbal encouragement, acted like waves of stimulation on his body until it stopped being pain and started becoming pleasure. And Geoff is very good at administering erotic pain."

Mulder turned his head and studied his lover. "Sounds like the voice of experience."

"Geoffrey Mason _trained_ me, Fox. You don't think that I sat and read books on the subject, do you?"

Mulder frowned. "I don't like the idea of anyone hurting you. Even Mason."

Skinner chuckled and drew him closer into his arms, bestowing a light kiss on his head. "My kitten has claws! Maybe I should have called you Tiger."

"Well, at least that's less humiliating than 'kitten'."

"It's _supposed_ to be humiliating, brat. That's the point."

"So what was _your_ nickname?"

"Oh, no - we are _not_ going there," Skinner admonished, pinching Mulder's ass. "I have enough trouble keeping you in line as it is without undermining my own authority."

Mulder pouted. "I am not _that_ difficult."

Skinner refused to be pulled in by that adorable pout. "Keep telling yourself that, brat."

"Well, you always seem to know how to _handle_ me, sir." Mulder deliberately ground his ass against Skinner's groin.

Skinner's hands slid down from Mulder's waist to cup his groin. "Are you asking me to _handle_ you, boy?" He increased the friction of his stroking and heard Mulder's groan.

"Oh, yeah. Please." Mulder gulped in air. "Please handle me, sir."

Skinner bent his head to bite Mulder's earlobe and murmured, "Upstairs. I will be up there in twenty minutes exactly and you had better be clean and lubed and waiting for me - or else."

Mulder felt dizzy and thought that he could come from just the sound of Skinner's Dom voice. "Oh, God!"

"Do you understand me, Kitten?"

"Oh, yes, sir!"

"Then go. The clock starts now." He nearly laughed as he watched Mulder speed out of the room. Suppressing his amusement, he crossed the room to say goodnight to his hosts.

Mason eyed him with amusement. "Mulder took off in a hell of a hurry, like he had a rocket up his ass."

Skinner smiled. "It’s what he wants in his ass that's got him in a rush."

Mason burst out laughing and shook his head. "Where, oh where, is the repressed Marine I first took under my wing?"

"That, like my innocence, didn't last long," Skinner said dryly.

Mason shook his head, his face sad. "No. I may have taken away your walls and released your inhibitions, but I never took that away. I'll never forgive myself for letting that happen to you."

"I was a big boy, Geoff. I had been crossing streets on my own and playing with subs for a year. And you _did_ try to warn me."

"Not strongly enough. But that won't happen again." He reached out to firmly grasp Skinner by the nape of his neck and gently shook him. "Fair warning, Walter Skinner. If I sense that you're going off-track again, I won't hesitate to put you back on course. You understand me?"

"Yes, Dad," Skinner said with a grin.

Mason cuffed him lightly. "Insolent pup - you and Mulder deserve each other, you know that?"

Skinner laughed softly. "Compliments, Geoff? You're getting soft."

"Go on, get out of here before I put you over my knee and shock your Agent Scully."

Skinner grinned. "Yes, sir."

* * *

He opened the door to his suite and smiled with satisfaction. Mulder was in place on the floor, hair damp, cuffs on ankles and wrists, collar laid on the floor in front of him, breathing heavily as if he had been racing around like mad to accomplish his tasks in the allotted time.

"Kneel up," he ordered and Mulder eagerly rose up on his knees to allow Skinner to place the collar around his neck. Skinner ruffled his hair affectionately, recognizing from the quivering of his sub's body that he wanted to play tonight. And, he thought with a smile, he supposed that he owed Mulder something special for the teasing that Skinner had put him through the previous day.

"Display," Skinner ordered, and Mulder rocked back on his heels, his hands braced on either side of his thighs, which were spread wide to display his half-hard cock. Skinner nodded. "Very good. Now hold that position while I shower and change."

Fifteen minutes later, he came out of the bathroom and Mulder's eyes widened as he saw him. Skinner had changed into a pair of leather pants and a black silk shirt, and he had left off his glasses. He looked dark and dangerous and was the sexiest thing that Mulder had ever seen.

"Oh, God!" he breathed.

"I don't recall giving you permission to speak, _boy_." A hand threaded into his hair, pulling his head back slightly so that he had to look up at Skinner. " _Did_ I give you permission?"

Mulder shook his head mutely and he shivered in delicious anticipation; he loved it when Skinner played Dom, taking full control of him.

The hand relaxed in his hair and petted him. "That's my good Kitten." He relaxed against that hand and nuzzled the palm. "Since you've been so good, I'll let you tell me what you'd like to do tonight."

Mulder looked up at him with shining eyes. "Anything?"

Skinner felt his early-Mulder-warning-system come on line and said, cautiously, "You can _suggest_ anything. I don't have to agree."

Mulder nodded and looked thoughtful for a few minutes, as if trying to determine what Skinner might agree to. "Um - bondage? But not a blindfold." His eyes ran over Skinner again as he grinned. "I like looking at you in that. And then - " He flushed a little, as if embarrassed to admit it. "I - um - I really like it when you play with different textures across my skin. And the clamps. You haven't used those since - " He drew a deep breath. "Since Benett. I liked it. Oh, and no gags. I want you to hear how much I'm enjoying it."

Skinner nodded. "That's sounds reasonable." He went to the cabinet and removed several items, setting them aside, then returned with a cock ring. "Stand." He fastened on the cock ring. "Wouldn't want you to come too soon and stop the game, would we?"

"No, sir."

"Okay, lay on the bed face down about one-third of the way across. Put your feet together and your hands behind your back." Mulder complied and Skinner brought over several lengths of rope to the bed. He clipped Mulder's wrist-cuffs together, then created a shoulder harness by running a rope under his armpits and then bringing the ropes back over his collarbones to tie at the back of his neck.

"Roll over toward the center of the bed." After Mulder did that, Skinner placed a pillow under his hips to elevate them and keep the pressure off his bound arms. He ran the free ends of the shoulder harness up to the headboard and attached them to the central ring with enough slack that he would be able to flip Mulder over if necessary. Then he finished up by clipping Mulder's ankle-cuffs together and attaching a rope from them to the central ring at the foot of the bed.

"Okay, Fox?" he asked, checking to make sure that the ropes were tight enough to immobilize Mulder without hurting him. Mulder tested his bonds and nodded. "Remember your safe words?" Mulder nodded again, and Skinner ran an assessing hand over his body. "Good."

Skinner returned to the cabinet and removed a few items, then brought them back to the bed. He watched Mulder's eyes widen and his nostrils flare in anticipation and was suddenly glad that he had thought to put on a cock-ring himself. He ran a gentling hand over Mulder's body, noting that the sub was keyed up but not tense. "I'm going to put on the first clamp now, boy. You know that there will be a sharp pain for about 30 seconds, then it will subside. I want you to try to breathe evenly through the pain." Mulder nodded, and Skinner lightly pinched the tip of his left nipple, raising it up, and slipping a light clamp under his fingertips onto the nipple. Mulder's breath caught briefly, and Skinner let him lie quietly for a minute to get used to the sensation, resting his hand on Mulder's thigh to judge the level of tension but not interfering with his concentration as he adjusted to the clamp. After a minute, Mulder relaxed and drew a deep breath, then his breathing settled down into a regular pattern again and the muscles under Skinner's hand relaxed. Skinner let his hand run back up Mulder's body, stroking and caressing, and Mulder practically purred under the attention.

Skinner chuckled and said, teasingly, "That's my Kitten. Second clamp, now."

Mulder relaxed into the second clamp quicker than the first, savoring the slight pain as he felt Skinner's hand move over his body lightly. All his nerve endings seemed to be coming to life and he ached at the loss when Skinner moved away from him to return to the cabinet. He wanted, no _needed_ Skinner to touch him, and it seemed to take forever before his Dom was back beside him.

Something soft and warm was moving over his belly. He looked down to see that Skinner had put a fur glove on one hand and was caressing his skin with it, slowly, moving in circular patterns. He groaned and shivered with the delicious sensations, nearly melting into the mattress, then caught his breath sharply as the other hand briefly touched the clamp on his right nipple. The one moved away from the nipple and the gloved hand slid over his hip and down his legs. He sighed and relaxed into the pleasure of it, his whole body tingling.

"I'm going to roll you over now, boy."

Skinner removed the pillow and rolled Mulder over, carefully ensuring that the nipple clamps weren't jarred, placing the pillow under Mulder's stomach so that his chest was off the bed. His bare hand ran gently up and down Mulder's spine, calming him as he adjusted to the change of sensations. Then he began stroking Mulder's back with the fur glove, moving in circular patterns across his back and his ass, down his legs and back up. Mulder was purring again, wriggling under the stimulation.

"Change of pace now, Kitten," Skinner said, replacing the fur glove with a scrub mitt. The mesh was slightly abrasive and, as it moved over Mulder's already stimulated skin, it made him tingle all over. He groaned and panted, unsure whether he wanted to arch up into the stimulation or move away from it. Skinner covered his entire back with the stroking, then repositioned Mulder onto his back again and stroked over his belly and down his legs.

Skinner discarded the scrub mitt and picked up a feather, and Mulder gasped at the feeling as Skinner drew the feather over his highly stimulated skin. It seemed to blaze a trail of sensation everywhere that the feather moved.

Skinner unfastened his legs and spread them, running the feather over Mulder's cock and balls while his fingers probed and stretched him.

Mulder wriggled on those fingers. "God, sir - please - "

"Please what, Kitten? What do you want?"

"I want - I need - fuck me - "

"Not yet, boy."

Mulder practically whimpered at that, but the hand was moving back up his body, stroking his chest. Skinner deliberately set about overloading his nerves with touching sensations so that fewer nerves could carry the pain sensations, then leaned over to murmur, "I'm removing the clamps now, boy."

Mulder drew a deep breath and waited for the sensation of blood rushing back into pinched tissue. He arched and cried out, then found his mouth plundered by another, muffling the cry and his body slammed back down against the mattress. Lips moved down his hypersensitive skin, avoiding his nipples but covering the rest of his body, and he felt the flood of warmth throughout his body that told him the endorphins were kicking in. And it was too much, it wasn't enough, he was going to die from the sensations, he needed more - much more.

"Pleasepleaseplease," he heard himself babbling and he could no more stop the flood of words and pleas than he could stop his heart from beating. He was suddenly aware that Skinner was naked, that he was moving between Mulder's legs now, caressing his achingly hard cock with his mouth while his hands positioned Mulder's legs. There was the blunt ache of penetration and the delicious heat filling him completely, and he nearly wept from relief.

"Want to touch you - please - "

Skinner rested for a moment, letting Mulder's body adjust to his presence, and leaned down to kiss Mulder's mouth. "No. You may touch me later. For now, you just concentrate on what you feel, on what I'm doing to you."

"Can't - so close - please let me come, sir, please - "

"Not yet." Skinner began moving, thrusting, and Mulder gasped and locked his legs around Skinner's hips. It was so good, so incredibly good, and he couldn't remember ever being so intensely aware of the sensations of skin moving against skin. He could feel his climax building, could feel Skinner's thrusting increase and heard the gasping pants that told him that Skinner was close, too, and then a hand was reaching down to remove the cock-ring.

"God, yes!"

He felt his climax slam through him, felt himself explode, felt his body shake all over. Then Skinner was growling and thrusting hard, shouting as he came deep within Mulder before collapsing down onto Mulder's chest.

They lay there for a long moment, catching their breath, before Skinner roused himself to clean Mulder up and release him from the ropes. Then he settled them both beneath the covers, feeling Mulder snuggle into his shoulder with a sigh of contentment. He looked down at Mulder's blissful face and chuckled.

"So did that fulfill your expectations?"

"Oh, yeah!" Mulder grinned. "More than fulfilled. Thanks."

"My pleasure - in more ways than one."

Mulder chuckled. "Smart ass."

"Said the pot. You know, Geoff said that we deserve each other."

"Geoffrey Mason's a perceptive man," Mulder murmured, drifting into sleep.

Skinner turned his head and kissed the soft hair under his chin. "Yes. I think he just might be at that." Then he smiled and closed his eyes.


	30. Grecian Idyll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner take a vacation on the beautiful island of Corfu that could change their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "I Do (Cherish You)" by Keith Stegall and Dan Hill. Mary Stewart fans may recognize a familiar location and friend but no plagiarism is intended - I just liked the idea of getting two water-babies together.   
> Language: The Greek alphabet doesn't exactly translate exactly, letter for letter, with English, so the words and phrases here are a rough equivalent.   
> SCHMOOP ALERT - not too bad, just the kind of silliness and romance you'd find on a vacation trip. No major angst, just the sort that's normally around when Mulder's involved in a story. And my siblings (if I allowed them to read my slash!) would recognize in Tourist!Skinner our mother, whose personal credo is "one more museum and then we can rest."

_In my world before you I lived outside my emotions_   
_Didn't know where I was going till that day I found you_   
_How you opened my life to a new paradise…_   
_I've waited so long to say this to you_   
_If you're asking do I love you this much - I do._

 

Mulder flattened his back against the wall, trying to still his racing heart that sounded overly loud in the deep silence hanging over the house. He closed his eyes to concentrate on listening, trying to locate the hunter, but there was no noise anywhere. Slowly, cautiously, he peered around the corner and then snapped his head back. Shit! The hunter was there between him and the door, blocking his path to safety. He thought quickly, trying to review his options.

There! A sudden sound from the other end of the villa where he had rigged those books to fall, and the hunter was swiftly moving to investigate, leaving the path to the door open. Mulder cautiously checked again to verify that the way was clear and then sprinted for the door. Once outside, he quickly evaluated his options. The road? No, that's what the hunter would expect. He heard the sound of pursuit behind him and dove for the path that led down to the beach.

The path twisted through the trees, erupting into a small clearing where a stream trickling down the hillside ended up in a little pool. There were two paths from here - one that led up the hillside and deeper into the woods and the other running towards the sea. Without hesitation, he took the downward path, hurtling down the steep trek as if his life depended on it. As well it might.

The path curved at a knot of golden oaks and then spilt out onto the sand of a small, sheltered bay. A thumbnail circle of pure white sand rimmed aquamarine water that rapidly turned to deep blue about ten feet out. The bay was deserted, quiet. Rocky promontories too stony for him to climb in bare feet also surrounded it on either side.

He swung back around, intending to go back up to the clearing and take the other path into the woods, only to find that his escape had been blocked by the arrival of the hunter. He turned and looked wildly out over the water, then faced his opponent. Fishing his precious, hard-worn treasure out of his pocket, he held it up for the man to see.

"Don't come any closer or I'll throw it!"

The hunter hesitated then, deciding that the threat was empty, took a step toward him. Mulder backed up another step until he was standing ankle-deep in the cool water. He pulled his arm back, ready to pitch the item in his hand.

"I'm serious! I'm a desperate man, and I've got nothing to lose!"

"Mulder, are you crazy? Do you know how long it'll take the rental agency to get a spare set of keys to us? It'll take days!"

"I hope it does! Days we can spend lying here on the beach in the sun. Sleeping in late and screwing like mink. Damn it, Walter, we're on vacation!"

Skinner looked hurt. "I thought you enjoyed seeing the sights."

"I **love** seeing archaeological sites, I **adore** museums, but I didn't realize that you'd taken a personal vow to visit **every** tourist site on the damned island or die in the attempt. For the past three nights we've been so tired when we got back here that we fall asleep the minute our heads hit the pillows. What with that damn conference and your 'must see one more thing before we stop' touring, it's been eleven **days** since we had sex last." Mulder fought to keep the pathetically desperate note out of his voice.

"I'm not **that** bad - "

"Oh, sure, that's what they all say in the beginning. It's only one museum. One art gallery. A monument here, a ruin there. Next thing you know, you're skipping lunch to get a quick fix at the National Gallery. Slipping into the White House to take the tour. And then it takes possession of your life, and you're forgetting to mow the lawn because a new Egyptian pottery exhibit has come to town. Never having clean suits for work but the tux is always ready for those opening night art galas. And then - " His voice broke. "And then one day you wake up and it's all gone - job, home, family - while you spend every minute wandering from one Smithsonian museum to another, cutting into lines in front of Girl Scout troops…" Mulder lowered his arm and stiffened his back. "No, Walter. I'm not going to let that happen to you. I'm going to save you from yourself."

Skinner had nearly laughed himself into tears. "You idiot," he said fondly. "I promise that I'll cut back on the sightseeing if you give me the car keys."

"No, Walter," Mulder said firmly. "You've got to go cold turkey on this. For the next few days, I want you to relax, swim, soak up some sun, and nail me on every available surface. **If** you're a good boy, after a couple days I'll let you visit one site - only one! - a day."

Skinner started to step forward and Mulder raised his arm again. "Promise or these keys join the fishes."

"Oh, all right, I promise."

Mulder lowered his arm and tucked the keys back into his pocket. "It's all right, big guy. You've done the right thing and I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

Skinner moved forward to take his lover into his arms. "You know that you're an idiot, don't you?" Skinner asked affectionately.

Mulder grinned. "And you love me in spite of that."

"No, I love you **because** of that. You help remind me to laugh at myself and at life. Before you - I can't remember the last time I had so much fun or felt so good about myself." He kissed Mulder gently. "Sorry, babe. I didn't mean to ruin your vacation."

"You didn't. Anytime I can be with you is amazing to me. And you can't help being an anal-compulsive."

"It's just that - there's so much in this world to see, and it seems like we have so little time together, and I just want to share it all with you."

Mulder's throat tightened. "Jesus, Walter. I **am** an idiot. Forget what I said. Grab your guide book and we'll hit the trail again."

"No," Skinner said softly, nuzzling Mulder's neck. "I've been neglecting you and I intend to start making that up to you."

"Jesus, Walter!" Mulder moaned as Skinner sucked on the spot right behind his ear that always made him crazy and then nipped his way down to Skinner's favorite spot on his shoulder.

"I think that the beach qualifies as an 'available surface', don't you, babe?"

Mulder tried to hold onto one rational thought - which was admittedly difficult, as Skinner had unbuttoned his shirt and was tonguing his nipples into hard peaks. "Um - Walter - romantic as it sounds, take it from an island native. Sand gets everywhere and I mean _everywhere_."

Skinner chuckled. "Good point." He released Mulder with a quick kiss and took his lover's hand to lead him back up to the house.

* * *

It was the sound of chattering in a foreign tongue and the whine of a vacuum cleaner that roused Mulder from a sated sleep. He blinked his eyes open and found that the moving surface under his face was his lover's back, rising and falling gently in sleep. He grinned as he realized that he had literally crashed nose first into that firm surface after coming harder than he could remember in recent history. Then a smirk crossed his face as he realized that Skinner must have crashed as well or the man would have rolled Mulder off him before going to sleep.

"Walter," he murmured, leaning up to nuzzle his lover's neck. "Wake up, big guy. We've got company." He eased himself off Skinner and stretched out on his back for a moment, wincing as the movement caused protests from parts of his body that had been well-loved and well-filled before he had returned the favor. "Come on, big guy. Housekeeping will want to change the bed and I'm starving."

Skinner blinked open a bleary eye. "I can't imagine why."

"Could it be because we spent half the morning fucking each other through the mattress?"

Skinner yawned and sat up, grimacing at the feeling of having slept in the wet spot. "You're sounding entirely too pleased with yourself, Mulder."

Mulder laughed and embraced him from behind. "That's because I am. First time I ever drove your peg completely into the ground."

"Where do you get these terms - never mind. Remind me to forbid you to hang around with Sean so much."

"Don’t forget to - "

Skinner turned and tackled Mulder, growling, "Smart-ass."

A tap on the door interrupted him before he could take advantage of the situation. "Housekeeping," said a heavily accented voice.

"One minute." Skinner briefly kissed Mulder and then let him up. "I'll let you get the first shower." Mulder nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, while Skinner put on a robe and opened the door. A matronly Greek woman smiled and nodded at him, and he managed a "Good-morning" before picking up Mulder's robe and taking it into the adjoining bathroom where Mulder was warbling happily - if slightly off-key - as he showered.

"Fox? I hung your robe on the hook by the towels." Receiving an acknowledgment, he began shaving methodically. A moment later, the water went off in the shower and Mulder emerged, still humming as he toweled his hair. He paused a moment to slide his arms around his lover's waist and grin at him in the mirror.

"Hey there, stud."

Skinner snorted. "There'll be no living with you now. Go feed that starving body. I'll be out after I've showered."

Mulder dropped a kiss on the side of Skinner's neck before letting him go. He belted on his robe and padded into the main room of the villa that Skinner had rented for two weeks. He smiled at the two women cleaning the kitchen and putting away groceries.

"Kalimera," he said, politely.

One of the women snorted but smiled as she poured a cup of coffee and brought it over. "Kalispera," she said, pointing at the clock.

Mulder glanced at the clock and grinned sheepishly. 'Yeah, I guess it **is** afternoon." He took the cup. "Efhanisto."

She nodded in return at his thanks and, as he headed back into the main room, he heard her say to the other woman, in an amused tone, "Neohumphas." He grinned, wondering what Walter would think about being called "newlyweds" by the staff. He could hear the shower still running so he opened the door to the terrace and stepped out onto it.

The Villa Kristina, which was more like a bungalow but which had probably been called a "villa" to impress the tourists, was on a private piece of property about 15 miles north of Corfu Town, nestled in the foothills of Mount Pantokrator. Originally, this had been an estate for an Italian family that had held onto the property since the Venetian occupation of the island. There had been a large house with orchards of oranges and olives to support the family, but with the tourist boom the family had converted the property into a cluster of private little vacation homes and had moved to the mainland. A friend of Skinner's had recommended the place and, luckily, there had been a cancellation. Daily maid service, including stocking the kitchen, was included although this was the first time they had actually seen the staff since they were usually out during the day.

Their villa stood at the top of a wooded cliff and, as Mulder leaned on the railing, he looked down through a virtual cloud of pines, down toward the sea. He couldn't see the bay from here as it was hidden by the trees, but the view ahead of him was spectacular - the shimmering gulf and beyond it a dark blue strip that was the strait separating Corfu from the mainland. To either side of the villa, all he could see were trees and they were set back off the main road so that even the sound of traffic was muted. Mulder sipped his coffee and felt all his problems drift away, including his lingering worries about his partner following a strange case that troubled her personally. All that belonged to another world, one far away from this Greek paradise.

Speaking of which, he thought with a little smile as he heard the terrace door open, here comes one of the Gods now. He turned to smile at his lover who was carrying a cup of coffee and some kind of sticky pastry.

"Hey, you," he said softly. "Put that down and come give me a kiss. I haven't had a proper wake-up yet."

Skinner cocked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "We have an audience, babe."

"So? You think they haven't figured out what we were doing in the bedroom? They **did** change the sheets, after all." Mulder grinned at him. "I talked with Sean about the attitudes towards gays over here, and he said that most women are cool with it - they're accustomed to not interfering with what the men-folk do as long as they provide for their family. And they think we're a cute couple - one of them called us honeymooners."

Skinner finished off his pastry and set down his cup, then reached out to pull Mulder close for a brief but thorough kiss. "I thought you said you studied **Classical** Greek at Oxford. Somehow I didn't think that 'honeymooner' was a Classic word."

Mulder shrugged. "Actually, 'newlywed' was what they said and that comes up in several texts." He picked up his coffee cup and sipped from it, glancing sideways at Skinner. "Does that bother you?"

"Not as long as I get the honeymoon sex, too." Skinner turned his back to the railing and pulled Mulder over to stand between his knees. "Are you okay with it, babe? What other people think, I mean? I've had almost thirty years to get comfortable with this aspect of myself. Granted that I repressed it for almost twenty years, but I worked through all these issues with Geoff years ago and learned to accept myself. It hasn't even been a year for you and there have been a lot of ups and downs."

Mulder sighed. "I don't know. I guess I haven't got all that worked out in my head yet. I mean, I know what I feel for you, I know that you can turn me on by just a look or a touch, and I love everything that you do to me."

"I never would have guessed that," Skinner murmured and Mulder smacked him.

"Hush. I'm trying to be serious. I know that all my sexual relationships with women have been unqualified disasters and I'm not interested in any women, but I still think that they are great looking and men in general don't do a thing for me." He shook his head. "I'm comfortable being in a relationship with you, whether that makes me gay, bi, or straight with a twist."

"Don't worry about it. All I care about is that you're comfortable around me." He kissed Mulder again, briefly, and released him. "So, no problems with the staff?"

"No. And Sean says the bigger cities have growing gay communities, and there are no actual laws against sexual acts as long as we're not minors. It's more the 'unofficial' kinds of things. Being hassled by the police - stopped and asked for our papers, that kind of nonsense. And the machismo shit from young toughs - not that much different from home."

Skinner looked sober. "I didn't think about that when I planned this vacation."

Mulder shrugged. "Neither did I. Sean's the one brought it up - you know what a mother hen he is. He has a lot of contacts all over the world and keeps up on the current situation in various countries. According to Sean, as long as we keep to ourselves and mind our own business we should be okay." He grinned over at Skinner. "Actually, you wouldn't have much problem. They have a term roughly equivalent to 'top' - kolombaras - which basically means you're macho enough to fuck anyone and everyone. Evidently that's a good thing." His eyes laughed at Skinner and Skinner growled back at him.

"So, now that you're in charge of our daily plans, what do you want to do this afternoon?"

Mulder considered this. "How about we spend some time down on the beach? Swim, sun, just relax. Then, if we feel like it, we can go into town for dinner or just whip up something here."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

"Now _this_ is what I call a vacation!"

Skinner over at Mulder, blissfully sprawled out on his stomach on the beach blanket, and repressed a grin. "Don't forget the sunscreen."

Mulder looked over at Skinner and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Want to help put lotion on my back?"

"You're incorrigible."

"And aren't you glad?"

Yes, Skinner thought to himself, very glad. He got out of his beach chair and knelt on the blanket, picking up the bottle of sunscreen and liberally applied it over Mulder's shoulders and back, along the back of his arms and legs, then smacked the lean ass barely covered by the small swimsuit. "Turn over."

"Ow! You really **do** get off on that machismo stuff, don't you," Mulder teased as he flipped over.

"And aren't **you** glad?" Skinner said, echoing Mulder's word with a grin, and his eyes swept appreciatively over his lover's nearly naked body. "Oh, I see that you **are** glad - or are you carrying a concealed weapon?"

"The only weapon I need on you." Mulder pulled Skinner's head down for a passionate kiss and Skinner groaned.

"Have a heart, babe. I'm an old man and it takes a while for my batteries to recharge."

Mulder snorted. "Yeah, right - you'll still be chasing after my ass when we're both old men, even if we're both using walkers. Who's got all that extra testosterone, huh?"

Skinner laughed and continued spreading lotion over Mulder's chest and arms, deliberately brushing over the hardening bulge in the Speedo as he moved downward to apply lotion to Mulder's legs.

Mulder drew in his breath sharply. "Tease."

"But you like it when I tease you." Skinner said, working the lotion into Mulder's calves and thighs, brushing closer to his groin without actually touching it, then moving back down and over to the other leg. By the time he was done he noticed that the Speedo were considerably strained. "Looks like you have a little problem here, babe."

"Little - " Mulder began indignantly, then gasped as Skinner's mouth suddenly descended on the cloth-covered mound. "Shit!"

Skinner sucked the head into his mouth, lazily circling the top with his tongue, the taste of Mulder permeating the cloth. His hands slid under Mulder's ass, lifting him up to bring his groin to an easier angle to work. Mulder groaned and his head rolled back on the blanket, his eyes closing involuntarily as all non-critical body functions shut down.

"God, Walter!" he gasped. "That feels - incredible - "

Skinner raised his head. "More or stop?"

"More - God, please, more - "

"In that case, this is in the way." Skinner hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the skimpy swimsuit and stripped it off, tossing it behind him on the blanket. "Now, where was I?"

"I can give you a hint," Mulder said, thrusting his hips upward at his lover.

"Now I remember." Skinner suddenly took the whole shaft into his mouth and Mulder gasped, nearly coming off the blanket.

"Walter!"

"Hmm?" Skinner sucked hard and then released the shaft, lifting Mulder's ass slightly so that he could lick down the underside of the cock and then move down to his balls. "Like that?"

"What's not - to like?" Mulder asked, gasping for breath as Skinner continued working him. "Your mouth should be - registered as a - dangerous weapon."

"Who says it's not?" Skinner's mouth moved back up to the beckoning cock. He licked up and down the swollen shaft, reducing Mulder to helpless gasps and pleas. When he finally took it into his mouth again, Mulder's eyes rolled back in his head and he began thrusting helplessly.

"Yessss - God, yes! - like that - good - so good -" He felt that incredibly skillful mouth working him deeper, coaxing every bit of sensation out of him, felt the familiar tension beginning to curl inside, stretching down his legs and up his stomach. "Yes!" he screamed, rocking harder in his lover's hands. "Walter - now!" One last hard suck and he was coming, and the stars were dancing behind his eyes, and he was shooting into that wonderful warmth until there was nothing left of him, nothing that didn't belong to his lover.

He felt gentle hands caress his skin, soothing him, and his skin was still so sensitive that he gasped and shuddered, feeling the mild after-shocks ripple through his body. Soft kisses on his nose, eyes, chin, lips, and he blinked open eyes heavy with sated bliss and smiled up into his lover's face.

"Better?" Skinner asked, smiling back.

"Yeah. At least I will be when I figure out how to get my bones back into my body."

Skinner chuckled at that and kissed him, a long, slow kiss. "Smart-ass."

"Guilty as charged. Take me away, officer - I'll come quietly."

Skinner snorted. "You've never 'come' quietly in your life, except when I gag you."

Mulder snickered. "Speaking of which, bring any of the toys with you?"

Skinner cocked his head, wondering if Mulder was teasing or if he was serious. And if he was serious, why he continued to bring up the 'game' outside the Club. He wondered if he should discuss it with Mulder or if he was just being overly sensitive. He decided to handle it with mock-seriousness and wait for Mulder to make his intentions clearer.

"No, but a good Dom doesn't need toys." He leaned over Mulder and let his eyes take the younger man's captive. "I can bend you to my will just with this," he said in a silky tone and tapped Mulder's head. Mulder's breath caught in his throat and a helpless moan escaped him. Satisfied, Skinner got to his feet.

"Come on, Junior - let's go for a swim."

Mulder lay flat on his back for a long moment, trying to regain control of his lungs, not to mention the rest of his body. /The things that man can do to me,/ he thought with a wry grin.

"Mulder, come here, quick!"

Mulder sat up, startled by the strange tone in Skinner's voice and looked over at the bay where Skinner was standing waist-deep in water, staring at something. Mulder jumped to his feet in time to see the ripples of some sea creature moving quickly toward the open sea then curving in a long arc, heading back -

/Shark!/ Mulder thought, panic-stricken, and raced towards his lover who seemed to be frozen in place in terror. "Walter! Get out of there!"

It was coming fast, thirty or forty yards out. He had almost reached Skinner's side when the water bulged and a huge, silver-black back broke the surface. Mulder had a glimpse of a dark bright eye and a dorsal fin shaped like a crescent moon before the creature submerged, swinging back out to sea and then making its run again. He clung to Skinner's arm, gasping and scared. Glancing at his lover's face, he was stunned to see the delighted look on his face and to hear the soft chuckle.

"Isn't that amazing? I've never seen one this close. Look, here he comes again! Stand still and see what happens."

Mulder couldn't have moved if his life had depended on it, terror rapidly being replaced by amazement at the rapt look on Skinner's face. It was coming again, slower this time as it approached them, breaking the surface and rolling over before plunging back under the water and surfacing again several yards away.

"It's a dolphin!" Mulder said, stunned.

"It's a big one - probably a male," Skinner said in a quiet voice so as not to startle it. "And it's obviously accustomed to people - maybe even tamed by the people who own the place."

The dolphin suddenly arched and dove again, disappearing under the water.

"Oh, he's going," Mulder said, disappointed. He took a couple steps away from Skinner, looking out toward the sea to figure out where the dolphin had gone. Suddenly, the sea burst apart and the dolphin shot upwards just a few yards away, a leap that took him completely out of the water then down again to smack the surface hard with his tail. Startled, Mulder fell over in the water. The dolphin tore around the small bay and then emerged, standing on his tail, only a few feet from Mulder as he resurfaced from his unexpected bath.

Mulder caught his breath and tentatively reached out his hand towards the sea creature, then he laughed in sudden, child-like joy. Time seemed to be frozen, creating a sharp image in Skinner's mind that he would never forget. Mulder was standing thigh-deep in the water, naked, his body like a golden arrow in the brilliant sunshine, laughing as one hand stretched out towards the silver-black dolphin arching out of a brilliant blue sea. Two creatures of the water, each recognizing a kindred spirit.

Then the moment was over. The dolphin rolled gracefully over to one side, disappearing, and Mulder was looking down into the water and laughing again as the body surged past him and nearly knocked him off his feet again. Then it was gone, streaking out to sea, and Mulder was wading back to him, his face bright with excitement.

"Did you see that, Walter? Wasn't that **incredible**? I've read about things like that happening - there was a dolphin in Italy in the sixties who used to come near shore and play with the children - but I never thought I'd actually **see** something like that!"

Skinner reached out to hug his lover close, smiling into the excited face. "It was amazing. Looks like you may have a swimming partner."

Mulder grinned but shook his head. They spent the rest of the afternoon at the bay, swimming and sunning, and the next afternoon as well, but the dolphin didn't make another appearance. Mulder was philosophical about it.

"This was probably a once in a lifetime occurrence. You know, being in the right place at the right time." Mulder laughed at that. "And **that** must be a first for me."

They were sitting on the terrace, eating breakfast and watching the morning sunlight sparkling on the calm water. Skinner reflected that Mulder had been right - they had needed these past relaxing days to rejuvenate them. They hadn't stirred from the villa except to go down to the bay in the afternoon, spending their mornings eating a late breakfast and lounging on the terrace while they talked or read in companionable silence. And the housekeeping staff had succumbed to Mulder's charms; they brought fresh pastry every day, and homemade moussaka and pastitsada had appeared in their refrigerator to be heated for dinner.

And the lovemaking had been incredible. Skinner smiled, thinking about Mulder's order to nail him on every surface - he had put a sizable dent into that list, he thought complacently.

"What's that smile about?"

He stretched lazily. "Just remembering things."

"Like?"

"The couch. This terrace. The living room floor. Among others."

Mulder grinned. "You have a one-track mind, Walter."

"It's my only hope in keeping up with you. So, master planner, what do you have in mind for today? Any piece of furniture that you're yearning to know intimately?"

Mulder grinned at that. "Actually, I thought we'd climb up Pantokrator. The view is supposed to be impressive. And there's a monastery there that dates back to the 14th century for you to explore."

Skinner laughed. "You are just too good to me, Mulder."

"Well, I promised that if you were a good boy you'd be allowed one treat a day. And you've been very, very good." Mulder grinned at him across the table. "I'd say spectacularly good, but your ego is big enough. And we can have lunch in Ipsos along the Golden Mile, then come back here and spend the heat of the afternoon swimming."

"Well, if you're sure that you'd rather visit a historical site than christen the kitchen table - "

"Walter, this is probably the only time you're going to hear this, so pay attention." Mulder paused dramatically. "Go put some clothes on."

Skinner laughed and did just that.

* * *

 

Standing on the peak of Pantokrator, Mulder had to admit that it was worth leaving the villa and its pleasures to see this view. The day was clear, it was still early enough to be comfortably cool, and the view was spectacular. He could see the entire scorpion-tail shaped island spreading to the south below him, and off in the northwest the mainland and Albania. And the look on his lover's face as they explored the monastery together and studied the 14th century art and icons was priceless.

He felt his lover behind him and his arms slid around Mulder's waist. "Beautiful, isn't it? You know, in our line of work we see the ugly side of so much but seeing something like this, both natural beauty and man-made beauty, makes me realize that there are still parts of this world that are beautiful, pure and untouched."

Mulder refrained from mentioning that tourism was quickly turning the natural beauty into a series of holiday camps and hotels, and that the same religious group that had created the beautiful artwork had also persecuted anyone who disagreed with their beliefs - especially those of his heritage - and still condemned gays. Instead, he smiled at his lover over his shoulder. "You're a romantic, Walter."

Skinner smiled and squeezed Mulder before releasing him. "Yeah. I guess I am at that."

They were less impressed with Ipsos, which seemed, to Skinner's eye, to be full of tourists and overly crowded beaches. They found a table at an outdoor "kafenia" along the Golden Mile and watched the people passing by while they ate a meal that seemed uninspired and overpriced. Both of them were glad to return to the villa after that.

And it seemed as if virtue was justly rewarded. While Mulder was swimming laps across the bay, he was startled to feel something bump against him, followed by a sudden wave that nearly submerged him. Treading water while he wiped the water out of his face, he was delighted to see a familiar form lying along the surface of the water. The dark eye was watching him steadily with what he could swear was an interested light, the muzzle curved in that perpetual dolphin smile.

"Walter!" he called. Skinner looked up from the book that he was reading in the shade on the beach. "He's back!"

Skinner stood up to see. "I told you he was looking for a swimming buddy."

"Is that so?" Mulder asked the dolphin, feeling a little foolish, but grinning idiotically as the animal did a barrel role in an obvious invitation to play. He began swimming again, continuing to cross the bay. The dolphin dove, racing toward the rocks at the far end of the bay, then turning in an arc and racing back to end up next to Mulder. "Show off. I'm not in your league, pal."

He continued to swim, shadowed by the friendly animal. The dolphin occasionally commented on his companion's slowness by erupting from the water and spraying the man with water, generating some good-natured cursing by Mulder. Skinner put down his book, watching the show in amusement, until Mulder finished his laps.

"I'm heading in, buddy. Same time tomorrow?"

As Mulder swam toward shore, the dolphin rolled once and sped out to sea. Skinner held out a dry towel and Mulder collapsed onto the beach-blanket, briskly drying his hair.

"That was incredible! I swear, he seemed to recognize me." He glanced over at Skinner and grinned. "I know - sounds stupid."

Skinner shrugged. "Who knows? Scientists have been studying dolphins for years and they still can't explain some of the things they do."

"It's strange how people have always been fascinated with dolphins," Mulder mused. "I mean, there are statues and paintings of them in nearly every culture that has been exposed to them. Greek philosophers described dolphins 'talking' centuries before scientists began studying their speech, and they considered dolphins to be Apollo's favorites."

Mulder started talking about Greek myths, how it was an appalling crime to kill a dolphin, flowed into Eastern beliefs about the mother goddess, then to some story about dolphins disappearing and leaving behind a cryptic message about fish, and on to new-age philosophies. Skinner let the words flow over him, listening with one ear and nodding, smiling while he watched his lover in what he called Mulder's "lecture" mode.

He was constantly amazed by the depth and breadth of subjects that Mulder was knowledgeable on and secretly loved these side-journeys that Mulder's mind took even when he acknowledged that they drove him crazy in the office. He watched the animation on Mulder's face, the excitement in his voice, the way his hands moved as he talked. The tousled, quickly dried hair and the flush on his face reminded Skinner of how Mulder looked during lovemaking, and a flash of heat went though his body.

He reached over and pulled Mulder to him, interrupting something about dolphin dreams being spiritual journeys with a passionate kiss. "Let's go to bed," he said huskily, bending his head to nuzzle at Mulder's neck.

Mulder chuckled as he tilted his head to give Skinner greater access. "Gee, Walter, I didn't know that dolphins turned you on."

"You'd be surprised." Leaving their few belongings for later retrieval, Skinner pulled Mulder up the path to the villa and proceeded to show him exactly how turned on dolphins, or rather, Mulder talking about dolphins, made him.

Sometime later, when Mulder had recovered his senses enough to make speech possible again, he snuggled into the shoulder under his head and ran caressing fingers through the hair on the broad chest.

"So, Walter, how do you feel about whales…"

* * *

They fell into a pattern for the rest of their vacation. In the morning, before the daily humidity got too high, they would leave the villa and visit one of the tourist sites. They had explored every bit of Corfu Town and the northern part of the island during their first three days. Now, over several days, they toured the Corfu Archaeological Museum then explored the southern part of the island with its Roman ruins and Byzantine forts and a cave dating back to the Paleolithic era.

After lunch, they would return to the villa to spend the rest of the day swimming or relaxing or making love. The dolphin often returned to swim with Mulder, apparently fascinated by this human. Sometimes Skinner joined them, and sometimes he watched and took pictures of the two water-babies frolicking in bay.

Only one small incident occurred during this vacation, but it was something that made Skinner think. They had just finished exploring the ruins of the Roman baths and were walking back to their car, talking and laughing about some nonsense that Mulder had recalled, when they passed three teens lounging against the wall outside the site.

"Poustis."

Mulder, stiffened, stopped and turned, and Skinner stopped to see what had caught Mulder's attention. He saw his lover coolly looking over the three teens then heard him say something in rapid Greek that made two of the boys grin and one, the original speaker, flush. The boy straightened and Skinner started to step closer, but Mulder held up a hand, clearly asking him to let Mulder handle this. Skinner nodded and stepped back slightly, which made the belligerent youth stop as well and fire off a question to Mulder.

Mulder grinned and said to Skinner, without turning his head to look at him, "Give them one of your looks, Walter - that 'Mulder, you are in a lot of trouble' look." Mystified, Skinner did so and grins broke out all the way around. There were some good-natured shoulder pats, more laughing comments, then a chorus of good-byes as the three sauntered on their way.

Skinner fixed Mulder with a look of his own, one that demanded answers. "Mind telling me what that was about? And I **know** that that wasn't Classic Greek."

Mulder grinned. "Well, I **did** spend some time in London while I was at Oxford and I might have picked up a few more colorful phrases."

"Uh-huh."

Mulder started walking again. "The first boy called me a name that would be roughly equivalent to 'bottom' but is used in a more derogatory manner, implying that I was your boy-toy. I told him, roughly, that he should be so lucky."

"So that's why he looked like he was going to beat you up. Why did he stop?"

"Remember what I told you about that whole machismo thing - it's okay if you're doing the fucking? Well, when I asked you to let me handle it and you did, it impressed him. He said that I can't be much of a - um - pussy-boy if I'm ordering around a kolombaras like you."

Skinner laughed and put an arm around Mulder's shoulder. "Tough guy," he teased.

Mulder shrugged. "It worked." He looked at Skinner, diffidently. "Thanks for letting me handle that. For not playing 'he-man to the rescue'."

Skinner stopped and pulled Mulder to face him. "Mulder, you're just as tough and capable of taking care of yourself as anyone, and I hope that I've never made you feel otherwise."

"Walter - "

"Let me finish. Just because I dominate you at the Club doesn't mean that I want to do that to you in real life. And even when we play our games, I don't expect or want you to be a femme - hell, half the fun is knowing that you're submitting to me because you want to, not because I'm forcing you to. I love you the way that you are - tough, strong, intelligent, irritating as hell sometimes, but as a man and not a female-substitute. So don't **ever** feel that you have to play helpless - and if I **ever** treat you that way, you have my permission to kick my sorry ass."

Mulder grinned but said, "Walter, don't tell me that you don't have the urge to protect me, to keep me out of trouble."

"I won't because it wouldn't be true - I'd like to keep you from getting hurt. But you do the same to Scully - and I **know** you don't think she's helpless." Mulder shook his head with a smile. "It's natural to want to protect those we love, but I'd rather have you fighting at my side than shielded behind my manly frame."

Mulder laughed and slid his arms around Skinner's waist, saying provocatively, "Oh, but there are times when you like me behind your manly frame."

"Those times we're naked and you're pounding me through the mattress, which you do quite well, my kolombaras." Skinner grinned at Mulder. "All this sex talk is making me horny. Let's go home and take turns being he-man."

Mulder let go of him and started toward the car. "You're on. Although, frankly, He-Man never did much for me. I always liked Superman or Batman better."

"You just like wearing the cape. Although I have to admit that you look really good in those tights."

Mulder chased him to the car.

* * *

Thursday, two days before the end of their vacation, and Skinner had made a decision that filled him with alternating thoughts of hopefulness and doomed certainty that he was about to ruin everything. He debated, turning the points over in his mind, arguing both sides and trying to think how Mulder would react. But that was precisely the problem - there was no telling how Mulder would react. He knew that Mulder was puzzled, wondering why he was so quiet, but Skinner knew that he had to do this right if it had any chance at all.

He'd always wondered how he and Mulder would get along if they had to spend long amounts of time in each other's company with no distractions to give them relief from the constant friction of companionship. No work, no television, no other people - just them. They had spent some time together before - a couple days at Thanksgiving, a week at Christmas, another week after Mulder got out of the hospital, that long weekend in San Antonio - not to mention all the weekends at the Club. But there had always been some buffer there.

Now, after almost two weeks together every moment of the day and night, he knew that he was addicted to this. He loved having the man in his arms when he woke every morning, shaving companionably at the sink while discussing the plans for the day. He loved grousing at Mulder for dumping his damp towels on the bed and Mulder's teasing retorts about anal-retentive personalities. Breakfast sharing the paper and coffee, and dinner sharing thoughts and wine, made him dread the silent breakfasts and lonely dinners waiting back at his apartment.

That night, they went into Corfu Town for dinner for the last time before they left on Saturday. They ate at a restaurant in Spianada, the heart of the town of Corfu, sitting at an outside table looking over the Lower Square. Venetian lamps that cast a soft light over everything and seemed to mute the rest of the world lighted the square. Mulder ordered their meals and wine in what sounded to Skinner like flawless Greek although the other man assured him that it was anything but perfect. It seemed to be good enough - the meal was excellent, the wine a perfect complement, and the service excellent. The waiter offered dessert; Mulder looked at Skinner questioningly and he shrugged.

"I'd love some coffee, though - real coffee if they have it." Skinner repressed a shudder at the memory of the horrible coffee they had had the previous day at a little coffee shop.

Mulder grinned and turned to the waiter. "Ekh'ete amerikaniko kaphe?" The waiter nodded, smiling, and Mulder held up two fingers, then turned to Skinner. "You're spoiled, Walter. I expect that you demand cold beer in England as well."

Skinner grinned and subtly flipped him off, and Mulder laughed. The waiter returned with their coffee and a plate of dessert pastries, fruit and chocolates, and Skinner smiled blissfully after taking a cautious sip. The waiter grinned and said something to Mulder that made the younger man flush, of which Skinner only caught the word "akoites" when the waiter gestured at Skinner, although he didn't seem to be angry - just embarrassed. The bill was produced and paid, Skinner left a generous tip, and they wandered down the street in the direction of the Upper square where they had parked. The night was beautiful and they walked slowly along the shadowed garden walks, both quiet with their thoughts.

"Fox, what was it the waiter said after he brought out the coffee? You seemed embarrassed."

"It wasn't important."

"Fox."

Mulder sighed. "He was just commenting that you were very particular about your coffee."

"Fox."

"All right, his exact words were 'Your - your friend is very particular about his coffee. Is he this particular about everything?'"

Skinner couldn't see what in that had made Mulder embarrassed, then thought about the word Mulder had stumbled over. "'Akoites' means friend?"

Mulder glanced at him, startled, clearly not expecting Skinner to have picked up any of the words. "Um - not exactly."

"What does 'um - not exactly' mean?"

Mulder sighed, surrendering. "The literal translation is 'bedfellow' or, more commonly, 'husband'."

"Oh." They walked on in silence, and Skinner looked at Mulder sideways, hesitating. This seemed like the perfect time to bring up his own wish, but he had a feeling that it would be better to do this in private, where Mulder would be able to get away if he needed to. "Here's the car."

They were silent on the drive back, and Skinner had the feeling that Mulder was looking at him from time to time, on the verge of saying something. He could feel his own stomach muscles tightening. They entered the villa and Mulder started towards the bedroom to change for the night, but Skinner stopped him.

"Fox, I want - I need to talk to you about something."

Mulder gave him that blank look that Skinner hated, that mask that he hid behind when he was sure that he was going to be hurt. "What is it, Walter?"

Skinner stalled. "Let's go out on the terrace. It's a nice night."

Once on the terrace, they stood side by side looking out over the sea, silent for a long moment. Then Skinner sighed and started talking. "Fox, I want you to think about this. You don’t have to make any decisions till you're ready, I just don't want you to give a flat refusal without thinking about it first, okay?"

"Go ahead and drop the other shoe, Walter." Mulder's voice was dull, flat.

"What the waiter said, and what the housekeeper said earlier this week - well, I've been thinking about this. I know that you're not comfortable with the whole idea yet, but you **did** say that you were comfortable with me, and I wondered - I hoped - "

Mulder looked at him with a puzzled frown. "Walter, you're not making any sense. For me that's normal, but for you that's unheard-of."

Skinner sighed again. "What I'm trying to say, and saying badly, is that I've enjoyed these past two weeks more than I ever imagined I would, and I'd like us to discuss an exclusive, committed relationship."

He could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed, then Mulder said in a peculiar voice, "You - you don't want to call this whole thing off?"

"God, no, Fox! I'd never want that! Why would you think that?"

"You - you were so withdrawn, so quiet today. And when I told you what the waiter said - you said 'oh' in a funny tone. I thought - " Mulder drew a ragged breath. "I thought that maybe it had all gotten to be too much for you: my rambling on and on, the way I leave messes lying around, the way I took over **your** vacation."

Skinner stopped Mulder with a finger on his lips. "I love your rambling, and I love the way you took over **our** vacation, and I love your - well, no, I don't love your messes but I can tolerate them because that means that you're somewhere around. What I can't tolerate is the thought that this will be over, and I'll go back to my apartment, and we'll have the occasional weekend there and the Club weekends, but you won't be **there**. Am I making any sense?"

"I think so. So you've been thinking about this all day - that's why you were so quiet?"

Skinner nodded. "So, what do you think?"

"Well, 'exclusive' - I thought we **were** exclusive. I mean, this," and he touched the gold bracelet, "means that we're exclusive at the Club, but I haven't been in the least bit interested in anyone else. Not that there was anyone **before** our agreement, either. Hell, there hasn't been anyone in my life in years. You?"

Skinner drew a breath. "You know about the hooker, of course. And Sharon. I played with subs at the Club - nothing serious, no one more than once except Krycek. And you know about Geoff. There's been no one except you for the past three years."

Mulder nodded. "Okay, so neither of us seems to have a problem with 'exclusive'. Now 'committed' - what exactly do you mean by that?"

Skinner met Mulder's eyes directly. "I told you once that you'd have to hit me over the head with a shovel to get rid of me, and I meant it. I'm talking forever, Fox. I'm talking about moving in together - my place, your place, or a house or apartment we choose together - whatever makes **you** comfortable. I can't see us having a commitment ceremony, but whatever makes you feel secure, makes you certain that I'm there for the long haul, is fine by me."

Mulder looked stunned. "Wow. When you decide to do something, you really go all out, don't you?"

Skinner felt his stomach plunge. "You're saying no."

"That's not what I'm saying, Walter. Give a guy a minute to absorb this, okay?"

Skinner leaned against the railing and tried to keep his heart from failing while Mulder paced the terrace, driven by pent-up nervous tension. Mulder felt like he had been on an emotional roller-coaster for the past hour, going from gut-wrenching certainty that Skinner was ending this to incredible relief when he realized that he wasn't; from sheer terror at the thought of forever to dizzying joy at the same thought. He tried to breathe, tried to think, aware that Skinner was waiting for an answer.

Mulder drew a deep breath, turned toward Skinner and said, "Okay."

Skinner blinked. "Okay? Okay, as in yes?"

"Okay, as in I'm willing to give this a shot but let's take it slowly, okay."

Skinner felt like his brain had stopped functioning. "How slowly?"

"I'm not going to move out of my apartment yet, but I'm willing to spend the majority of my time at your apartment, not just weekends. That'll give us time to see how this works out but we'll still have the ability to back off if we need some breathing space. Then, if it works, we can talk about something permanent."

It wasn't everything, but it was more than Skinner had expected. "Okay. Sounds reasonable."

Mulder grinned. "Yeah, well, I've been known to be reasonable. On occasion."

"I know, otherwise I'd be looking for the pod." Skinner took Mulder into his arms, just holding him close, breathing in the scent of the man that he loved and feeling thankful that he hadn't made a mess of everything.

Mulder buried his face against Skinner's shoulder, trying not to start shaking now that his decision had been made. Levity, he thought; make a joke and get over the rough moment. "Walter?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you feel about matching nipple rings?"

Skinner grinned and felt the last of his worries drift away. "I feel that someone's cruising for trouble."

"Well, I guess that means the honeymoon is over," Mulder said with a dramatic sigh. "You're lucky I'm easy, Walter. I didn't even make you get down on one knee. And no commitment ceremony? I've had my heart set on the National Cathedral. In my mother's wedding dress - Walter! Put me down!"

Walter Skinner, who had endured a long, anxious day, ignored this order as he threw his laughing lover over his shoulder and carried him into the bedroom.

* * *

They spent the last day finishing up their sightseeing and picking up final souvenirs for their families and friends, returning to the villa in the late afternoon. After eating dinner and packing his bags in preparation for their morning flights, Mulder wandered restlessly around the villa. Skinner finished checking all the drawers, cabinets, and under the bed to make certain that nothing had been left behind, secured his luggage, then went looking for his lover

He found Mulder on the terrace, looking out over the sea, a wistful look on his face. He slid an arm around Mulder's waist and the younger man sighed, settling against him.

"I never got a chance to say good-bye."

Skinner looked puzzled, then realized that Mulder was talking about the dolphin. They had gotten back too late for their usual swim that day and they would be leaving in the morning - first to Athens, and then Mulder back to England for a layover before flying home while Skinner flew straight back to DC.

"Why don't we go down for a moonlight swim? It's a full moon tonight so it should be bright enough. Maybe he'll turn up." Mulder nodded, looking a little sheepish, and Skinner nuzzled him. "Besides, I think that's a surface that I missed, if you can call water a surface."

Mulder grinned. "You are so goals-oriented, Walter. Far be it from me to ruin your perfect record. Let's go."

They took a flashlight to find their way down the path since it was overhung by trees, but didn't need it once they reached the sand. The bay was illuminated and seemed almost as light as day, and the moonlight gleamed off the surface of the sea making it look like it was streaked with silver. Everything was still and quiet except the breeze which rustled the trees and stirred up little whitecaps on the water.

They shed their clothes on the sand well above the waterline and walked into the bay hand in hand. The water was still warm from the day's sun and felt good on their skin. Mulder did some laps without being joined by his friend but he was philosophical about it by the time he finished, telling Skinner that it had been incredible that it had ever happened.

Skinner was relieved to see that Mulder's depression had lifted and pulled him close for a gentle kiss. Mulder wrapped his legs loosely around Skinner's waist and they floated for awhile, sometimes talking and sometimes silent, feeling the deep comfort of companionship. Soft, gentle kisses gave way to more urgent and lingering ones. Gentle caresses became more purposeful, and talk changed into soft moans and gasps. Erections rubbed together, slowly and sensuously to begin with, increasing in speed and pressure as their blood heated up.

The buoyancy of the water allowed Skinner to easily shift his lover to allow for the greatest amount of sensation. Mulder wrapped one arm around Skinner's neck and reached between them with the other to take both of them in his hand and stroke them together. Skinner groaned and captured Mulder's mouth again, his kisses hot and demanding, and Mulder responded as he increased the speed of his stroking. Then they were both shuddering, neither sure whose climax triggered the other's, neither caring at that moment, content to hold each other and savor the afterglow, exchanging occasional soft kisses and murmured endearments.

A nudge against his back startled Skinner and he opened his eyes to look around. His movement made Mulder lift his head from Skinner's shoulder.

"Walter?" he asked dreamily.

A movement in the water, and Skinner smiled. "I think your friend is back."

Mulder looked around, grinning as he saw the sleek form break the water nearby and roll onto its side, one luminous eye watching them in the moonlight.

"A voyeuristic dolphin," Mulder said with a laugh. "Enjoy the show, pal?" The dolphin dove and nudged Skinner in the back again, harder, and nearly knocked them into the water. "Hey! Find your own date - this guy's taken."

"I think he's jealous - he wants you to stop playing with me and come play with him," Skinner said with a grin.

"Oh, to be so popular," Mulder said laughing, unhooking his ankles from around Skinner's waist. "Is that it, buddy? Want to do a couple laps for old time's sake?" The dolphin took off for the other arm of the bay. "Hey! You didn't wait for the starting whistle - what a cheater!"

Skinner laughed and headed towards shore to dry off and dress, then watched the two frolic. He felt a deep well of contentment inside and wanted this feeling to last forever. He knew that it wouldn't, knew that they would have tough times ahead and that his biggest challenge would be convincing his wary lover to let go of his fears and take a chance on him. But he had hope now, and with hope and a little luck, he thought that they just might pull it off.


	31. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning from their idyllic vacation, Mulder and Skinner begin adjusting to the change in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "How Do You Keep the Music Playing" from "Best Friends. Okay, everyone, here we are at the top of the roller coaster, and isn't it a lovely view? Sit back, relax, and enjoy this moment before we start the downward plunge.

_I know the way I feel for you, it's now or never_   
_The more I love, the more that I'm afraid_   
_That in your eyes I many not see forever, forever_

_If we can be the best of lovers_   
_Yet be the best of friends_   
_If we can try with everyday to make it better as it grows_   
_With any luck, then I suppose, the music never ends_

 

Skinner opened his door and smiled at the tired-looking man standing on his doorstep. "Hi. I was beginning to think that you'd gone back to your place."

Mulder rubbed eyes that were reddened with fatigue. "Flight was delayed, then we circled for hours before we were waved off to Baltimore. I should have gone home - it's late - I wasn't thinking when I gave the cab driver the address - "

Skinner dragged Mulder inside by his coat lapel, shut the door and relieved him of his luggage. Then he pulled his lover into his arms, just holding him close, and murmured, "You **are** home."

Mulder clung to him, the combination of overwhelming fatigue and relief hitting him at once and making him weak-kneed. "I thought you might have changed your mind, once you got away from the whole romantic-vacation influence," he murmured into Skinner's shoulder.

Skinner sighed dramatically and shook his head. "I **knew** it was a mistake to let you fly home by yourself. You had too much time to **think** , and that always makes you brood. I should have insisted that you change your tickets to fly back with me."

Mulder managed a weak smile. "I'm okay."

"Come on - this should convince you." Skinner picked up one of the bags and led the way upstairs. Mulder followed, his tired brain trying to think of a way to tell Skinner that the last thing he wanted was sex without hurting the man's feelings.

Skinner walked over to the closet, turning on the light as he stepped inside. "Check it out."

Mulder managed a smile as he crossed the room. "Is there something significant about both of us going into your closet? Something symbolic?"

"Smart ass."

Mulder blinked. The closet was neat, as he would have expected, but it was also only half-full. One side of the walk-in closet was now completely empty, except for the suit bag that Skinner hung up on the bar. He looked at Skinner questioningly.

"I figured you'd need some space of your own. I thought I'd order a matching dresser for you on Monday. And I've made space downstairs for your books and videos. Even if you're not moving in here completely, I thought you'd feel more comfortable if you had some of your things here." Skinner's eyes were studying his face, watching for either a good or bad reaction.

Mulder smiled. "Walter, you're too good to me," he said, moving into Skinner's arms again with a contented sigh.

"Welcome home, Fox," Skinner murmured into his ear. "Have you - " He stopped as he felt the laugh, and he pulled back with a grin. "Never mind. I know the answer: airline food is the pits and you were so anxious that you couldn't have kept anything down. Go get a shower and I'll fix you a light meal."

Which left Mulder, standing under a cascade of blessedly hot water a few minutes later, wondering what he had done right to have this amazing man in his life. A smile curved his lips and gave way to a full laugh.

"That sounds better," Skinner said from the bedroom as he set a tray down on the end of the bed. "What are you laughing about?"

"You."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."

Mulder appeared in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist as he briskly rubbed his hair with another towel. "Definitely flattered."

"Then I won't pry further." He pulled Mulder into another hug, relishing the scent of freshly washed Mulder. "Dinner's waiting." He released the younger man.

Mulder slipped on a pair of boxers to sleep in and settled on the bed, sniffing appreciatively. "Soup and grilled cheese? Comfort foods, Walter?"

"Nothing's too good for you, babe."

Mulder grinned. "I'll keep that in mind." He bit into the sandwich and discovered that he was hungrier than he had thought.

Skinner, puttering around the room as he got everything settled down for the night, noticed this with approval. "I'll just run this down to the kitchen and lock up," he said, picking up the tray after Mulder polished off the last of the soup. "Go ahead and get under the covers - I'll only be a few minutes."

It was closer to ten minutes when he returned to the bedroom after rinsing the dishes and locking up, and he smiled as he saw that Mulder was already fast asleep, curled up on one side of the bed. He stood by the bed for a long moment, looking down at the sleeping face of the man he loved, and then gently kissed a slightly-stubbled cheek.

"Welcome home, Fox," he said softly.

He got ready for bed and settled in with a book, turning the light on low so that it wouldn't disturb his sleeping lover. His internal clock was still out of adjustment, still on European time, and that coupled with the nap he had taken earlier conspired against letting him sleep anytime soon. After a couple hours, though, his eyes started to get heavy and he closed the book, reaching for the light.

A sound from the sleeping man next to him made him pause and turn back. Mulder was muttering in his sleep, starting to twist in the grip of his dream. Skinner frowned; Mulder hadn't had a nightmare while sleeping with him in a long time. He gently shook Mulder until he stopped thrashing and opened his eyes.

"Walter?" The voice was fuzzy with sleep.

"You were dreaming, Fox. Are you okay? Was it one of your usual nightmares?"

Mulder shivered. "No. Something new. Something weird." He smiled weakly at Skinner. "Remind me not to read John Preston and historical romances at the same time." He shuddered again.

Skinner grinned. "Historical romance - you mean one of those books with the half-dressed women on the covers? I never would have suspected you -"

Mulder gave him a dirty look. "Yeah, well, it was Scully's and she left it in my flight bag. I was out of reading material on the plane."

"Want to tell me about the dream?"

Mulder considered for a moment, vaguely remembering Skinner as a feudal lord and himself as a slave boy, and shuddered. "I don't think so - you have enough ideas as it is."

Skinner laughed and reached over to turn out the light, then reached out to pull Mulder into his arms, settling him against his shoulder. "Go to sleep, Fox."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

Mulder woke to bright sunshine and an empty bed. He stretched deliciously, enjoying the feeling of having slept out his bone-deep fatigue and the comfort of waking up in a familiar room. Then he decided that the luxuries of a big bed was better shared so he put on a robe and went in search of his lover.

He found Skinner in the kitchen, spooning out pancake batter. "Mmm. Smells good." Mulder helped himself to a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter to watch the older man as he expertly flipped and removed the pancakes on the griddle and then poured out another set. "You're so domestic, Walter. You must have been born with homemaker genes."

Skinner flashed him a grin and Mulder found himself wishing that his lover would smile like that more often. Dressed in casual clothes, without his glasses, and wearing a smile like that the older man packed a nearly lethal punch. "You'd be surprised," Skinner said in amusement. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Mulder admitted. "Rested. Less uncertain about this whole moving-in thing."

"Good." Another sideways look. "Anything I can do to make you even more certain about this?"

"Well, as a matter of fact - " Mulder waggled his eyebrows at Skinner suggestively.

Skinner turned off the burner and set the plate in the oven to stay warm, then turned and pounced.

* * *

It turned out to be the high-point of his week, the low point being the reason why he was having a hell of a time packing the box in front of him. No, the real low point had been kneeling in the dirt waiting for a gunshot and wondering if his lover and his partner would ever know what had happened to him. The overwhelming relief he had felt at having his life spared had made him look at a lot of things differently. So, sent home mid-afternoon on a Friday with orders to take it easy, he had done just the opposite and began sorting out the items that he would take with him to Skinner's apartment the next morning.

He gave up on trying to secure the box flaps with his splinted fingers and decided to tackle his first challenge. Mulder picked up the phone and dialed the number from memory, almost hanging up twice. He heard the phone ring, his nerves stretching tighter with each successive ring, and wiped his sweating palms on his jeans. No one home, he thought, almost giddy with relief. Well, that was that. He had tried, hadn't he? Maybe he'd send a letter…

"Hello?"

Mulder swallowed hard, his heart jumping into his throat.

"Is anyone there?"

He cleared his throat. "Mom? It's - it's me."

"Fox? Why on earth didn't you say something right away? I thought it was one of those dreadful obscene phone calls."

"Um - sorry, Mom." Damn, he thought, his heart sinking as he felt the old helplessness fill him. Getting off on the wrong foot at the start - this was not good. "How - how are you doing?"

"As well as can be expected. I got a bit of a cold in my lungs this past winter but your aunt took me to the Caribbean last month and that helped."

Pictures of warm sun, sand, and ocean water filled his mind and steadied his nerves. "Sorry to hear that you weren't well but I'm glad that you're better." He paused awkwardly, wondering if he should make an excuse to hang up.

"Fox, you didn't call to ask about my health. What's going on? Your sister - ?"

"No, nothing like that." He paused again. "I - um - I wanted to tell you that I'm - that I've found someone special."

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone. "I suppose it's that partner of yours."

"Scully? No, it's not her. I'd like you to come to DC, you know, to meet - "

"No, I don't think so. There's not much point, is there? These relationships of yours don't last very long. What would be the point of my meeting the young lady."

Mulder swallowed hard and closed his eyes. She was right - what was he thinking? He had never successfully managed to sustain a relationship - he should just break this one off now before he really hurt Walter. He moved the phone to his other hand and, in doing so, the bracelet around his right wrist shifted and caught his eyes. Mulder touched it, ran a finger over the design on the surface. He could almost feel his lover's hands on his shoulders, sending warmth and strength through him. He drew in a deep breath.

"This is different, Mom. This one - I think it's the real thing. I love him, and he loves me."

" _Him_?"

"Yes, him."

There was silence and then a deep sigh. "Oh Fox; your father would be so disappointed." And then there was only a dial tone on the other end.

Mulder stared at the receiver for a long time before sighing and hanging up. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't be the first time." Then he picked up the phone and dialed another number that he knew by heart.

"Hey, Scully. You doing anything after work? Care to come by my place and split a pizza? I think we need to talk."

* * *

Saturday mid-morning, and Skinner looked up as Mulder entered the apartment. He smiled a welcome, gesturing for him to enter, then spoke into the phone again. "Yeah, he just walked in. Want to talk to him?" He held out the phone to a questioning Mulder. "Mom."

Mulder grinned, set down the suit bag he was carrying, and crossed to take the phone from Skinner, flopping down into an easy chair with languid ease. Skinner turned his attention way from that enticing sight and toward the slight redhead standing in the doorway, uncertainly holding a box in her arms.

"Here; let me take that." He glanced into the box and identified it as books and carried it over to the bookshelves, setting it on the floor for now. "I see that Mulder drafted you into helping. Any more in the car?"

"Just a box and a suitcase - one trip ought to get it."

Skinner nodded and got the car keys from his lover, then went down to the garage with Scully. She was quiet in the elevator and he looked over at her, wondering what she was thinking. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Just - thinking." She studied the older man's profile. "Mulder and I talked a lot last night."

"About?"

"You. Him. The two of you. Our partnership."

"And you managed to finish that discussion in one night?"

Scully laughed, shaking her head ruefully. "Okay, I admit that the talk stretched into early morning - and I crashed on his couch. In fact, I'm supposed to be at the Club right now for a training session with Mace."

Skinner looked at her in amusement. "You **stood up** Geoffrey Mason? You're a braver person than I am, Dana."

Scully smiled. "I have it on good authority from Sean that he's mellowed since your training days." She gave him a sideways look of amusement. "Someday we'll have to share stories."

"I wouldn't hold my breath, Dana."

"Not even if I threaten to tell Mulder your training nickname? I know that he's dying to know."

"I think that this is considered blackmail. And two can play that game."

Scully laughed. "All right - for now." She paused beside her car and laid a hand on Skinner's arm, her face turning serious. "Walter - I just want to tell you that I hope this works out. For both of you. I know that you care about him a lot, and I think you know how hard this is for him."

Skinner nodded. "Yes. I'm doing my best not to pressure him, make him feel trapped." He smiled ruefully. "Sometimes life with Mulder feels like navigating a mine field."

"Don't I know it. Just be patient - he loves you very much. And if there's ever anything I can do to help, just let me know." She let go of his arm. "Well, I better get going before Mace blows a gasket."

Skinner watched her drive off, smiling at the mental picture of Mason meeting his match in the diminutive redhead, then fetched the box and suitcase from the car.

* * *

Once the door closed behind Skinner, Mulder turned his attention to the phone in his hand. He was tired but it was a nice kind of tired. The night before, he and Scully had talked until the early morning hours. It had brought back bittersweet memories: a candlelit motel room where he had first told Scully about his sister, countless motel rooms where they had talked about nearly every subject under the sun, arguing companionably, nights spent completing case files over takeout food. Before each of them had erected walls to mask their pain. Before the arguments had become something to win, points being tallied on some unseen scoreboard. But last night they had _really_ talked, in a way that they hadn't for years. And it had felt good, healing a wound that he hadn't even realized that he had felt. It had almost been enough to make him forget the conversation with his mother.

"Hi, Anne! How was the flight home?"

"Uneventful," came the warm voice of Anne Skinner over the connection. "And I was thankful for that - I'd forgotten how exhausting a six month old baby can be. I can't wait to show you both the pictures - she's grown so much."

Mulder groaned dramatically. "Anne, you really know how to torture a guy. Am I going to have to put up with an entire weekend of you and Walter trading pictures? You still are coming for a visit next month aren't you, for Walter's birthday?"

Anne laughed. "Of course - it's been too long since I've seen you two, and Walter says that he's got some lovely souvenirs from Greece. He also says that you're moving in - sort of."

Mulder smiled ruefully. "Yeah, Walter can be pretty convincing."

"If that's the case, what's holding you back, dear?" Anne asked gently. "I know that you love him very much - do you still doubt how much he loves you?"

"No, not really, it's just - " Mulder sighed. "Anne, how long were you married to Walter's father? If you don't mind my asking?"

"Of course not. We were married for forty-two years before he died."

"Forty-two - " Mulder was nearly struck speechless. "How - "

Anne's soft laugh came over the phone. "How did we last so long? Lots of love, lots of understanding, lots of patience."

"I can't imagine spending forty years with one person, always agreeing, never arguing."

"Who ever told you that people in love don't argue? Jonathan - Walter's father - and I had our share of fights, said terrible things to each other at times. But we learned to forgive each other, to bend and compromise when necessary."

Mulder sighed. "I don't do compromise very well. And Walter's not exactly the bending kind."

"I don't know about that. Seems that you've both been willing to compromise - for each other." There was silence from Mulder's end of the phone. "Fox, what is it?"

"It's just - I know that we love each other now but - how do I know that it's going to last? How do I know that one day I won't wake up and - and not see that in his eyes anymore?"

"Fox, none of us have any guarantees," Anne said gently. "It's the risk we take when we fall in love. But I don't think that you have anything to worry about as far as Walter is concerned. He loves you more than I've seen him love anyone in his life."

Mulder sighed. "Until I do something to screw this up. I don't have the best track record in relationships. My own mother doesn't think this will last - "

"So you told her?"

"Just the essentials. That I had found someone special. That it was a man. She hung up on me."

Anne sighed. "It can be hard for a parent to accept, Fox. We all have certain - expectations for our children. Give her time."

Mulder snorted. "You don't know my mother, Anne."

"No, I don't," Anne said slowly.

"Yeah, well she has raised denial to a high art form. By this time, she's probably suppressed her memories of the whole conversation." There was a sound at the front door, and Mulder looked over the back of the chair to see Skinner enter the apartment. "Walter's back. You want to talk to him?"

"No - I know you have unpacking and settling in to do. Give him a kiss from me and tell him I'll call him later this week. And Fox - stop worrying so much and just enjoy. Okay?"

Mulder laughed. "Yes, ma'am. Take care, Anne."

He hung up the phone and crossed the room to Skinner who was setting the box down on top of the first one. "Anne said to tell you that she'd call later this week. And she asked me to give you this." He slid his arms around Skinner and kissed him thoroughly.

Skinner chuckled softly when Mulder released him. "Somehow I doubt that's the kind of kiss my mother would have given me."

"Interpretive license." He moved back in for another kiss, relishing the security of strong arms around him. "And I'm thinking that we should put off unpacking these boxes till later. Like Monday."

Skinner let his lips move down his lover's neck. "What did you have in mind?"

"A proper homecoming celebration." Mulder began unbuttoning Skinner's shirt.

"Hmm. As I recall, a proper celebration involves making love in every room in the house."

Mulder grinned at him. "I like the way you think. Care to christen the living room?" Skinner's response was to push his lover down onto the couch, pausing only to strip off their clothes before following Mulder down. Mulder chuckled softly as Skinner's weight settled along his body. "I take it that's a 'yes'."

Skinner bent his head and kissed his lover possessively. "You talk too much." Then he proceeded to drive the younger man out of his mind with kisses and nips along his collarbone, finding the one exact place that always drove Mulder crazy, while his hands caressed and stroked the supple skin.

Mulder gasped and groaned with pleasure, his own hands moving over Skinner's back before gripping the firm ass. He pulled his lover's groin closer, relishing the resultant groan as much as the pleasurable friction against his own cock.

"God, it's been too long," he moaned, his strong hands urging Skinner's body into a rhythm that rocked both their groins together, their cocks sliding along each other, driving the tension to an almost unbearable level.

"Missed you," Skinner muttered, "missed this. And waking with you in the morning."

Mulder thought about how close they had come to missing this forever and tightened his arms around his lover. The added friction was just enough to push him over the edge and he came with a shout.

"God, yes! Walter!"

Skinner felt the warmth against their bellies, felt the heat rush through his own body, and exploded with a gasp. "Fox - love you - "

They lay there for a long moment, trying to catch their breath and return their heartbeat to normal. A soft chuckle from under him made Skinner lift his head to catch a grin on Mulder's face, one he knew that matched the expression on his own face.

"What?"

"Just wondering if I'm going to survive the homecoming celebration," Mulder teased.

"Guess that just shows who's in better shape." He lifted himself off the younger man, stretching with a wicked look at his lover. "Of course, if you're not up to it, I suppose we can just forget the homecoming ritual…"

"Not up to it?" Mulder said indignantly. "I'll show you who's not up to it! Race you to the shower - old man."

Skinner growled and set off in pursuit of his laughing lover, then pinned him against the shower wall and proceeded to show him very convincingly just who was **not** an old man.

* * *

The sky was overcast, promising a storm later in the day, and she idly wondered if she should cover some of the more fragile new plants in her garden. One more thing to do on a busy Monday morning, she thought with a sigh. With a hint of impatience, she looked back at the stranger standing on her doorstep.

"Yes? May I help you?"

"Mrs. Mulder? I'm Anne Skinner. I think that we need to talk."


	32. Here There Be Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner face monsters within and without.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Safe Place from the Storm" by Michael Bolton. 
> 
> This chapter involves plot changes in "Folie aux Deux" because a) I don't think a responsible pathologist would act like Scully did, b) she would have had to have the Enterprise's transporters to go from DC to Chicago to DC (do an autopsy) and back to Chicago in one day, and c) Skinner in my universe wouldn't commit his Mulder and then leave him alone.

_Run to me, when those cold and troubled winds have found you_   
_Come to me, and I’ll wrap my world of love around you_   
_I’ll be your flame burnin’ bright_   
_Be the sunlight in your day_   
_That’ll take you through the night._

 

Teena Mulder looked puzzled. "I'm afraid - "

Anne Skinner smiled at her. "I believe that you have spoken with my son - Assistant Director Walter Skinner."

"Oh, yes." Teena opened the door and led the way to the living room with a sigh. "I suppose Fox is in trouble again. Would you care for some coffee?"

Anne bit her tongue over a quick retort. If someone had shown up on her doorstep to talk to her about Walter, she would have been certain he was at death's door. She certainly wouldn't be this casual about it. "Thank you. That would be nice."

"Make yourself at home. I'll be back in a moment."

Anne nodded and Teena disappeared down the hallway. Anne walked over to the fireplace, studying the pictures displayed there. A handful of pictures, not many, of a girl from infancy to youth, the last one of her standing with an older boy who looked vaguely familiar. She picked up the picture and looked at it closely, smiling. Fox, she thought to herself, and this must be the sister that he had lost. She set the picture back down, looking around the room for more recent photos of the young man that she had come to regard as her son-in-law, frowning again as she realized that there were none.

Teena came back in with a tray, setting it down on the coffee table. "How do you take your coffee?"

"Black, one sugar." Anne accepted the cup and settled on the couch.

"So, Mrs. Skinner - "

"Please, call me Anne."

Teena nodded. "The last time - when your son came to tell me in person - they believed that Fox was dead."

"This isn't anything like that. This is more in the nature of a social call."

Teena raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that FBI administrators sent their mothers to pay social calls on the families of their agents."

"They don't. Walter doesn't know that I'm here - he'd probably growl at me if he found out," Anne said, smiling. "The fact is, I've become very fond of Fox and I hate seeing him unhappy."

"You know my son?"

"I spent Christmas with them - Walter and Fox," Anne said quietly. "And I sat with him at the hospital earlier this year when he was recovering from his abduction."

"Christmas - with them?"

"Yes. Mrs. Mulder, I know that Fox told you that he was in love, that the person he was seeing was a man. That man is my son."

Teena frowned. "If you're blaming my son - if you think he somehow seduced - "

"I'm not blaming anyone. Fox is a delightful young man and I have enjoyed knowing him."

Teena drew a deep breath. "So you've known about all this for a long time."

"Since Christmas."

Teena set down her cup, looking horrified. "And you _condone_ this - this relationship?"

"It's not my place to condone it or not. Walter is a grown man, capable of making his own decisions, and I support him in that. But the fact of the matter is that, yes, I do approve. My son loves Fox deeply. They are very happy together."

"You _encourage_ them? You should be ashamed of yourself! You ought to be ashamed of your son!"

Anne bit her tongue as she set down her coffee cup, counted to ten, and said firmly, "I've never been ashamed of Walter, ever. Disappointed? Yes. Disappointed that he'll never give me a grandchild, that he'll never have the joy of having a child of his own. But if he's never going to have that, then I want him to have everything else that he _can_ have. Love most of all."

"It went on for all this time with Fox saying a word?"

Anne sighed, trying to be patient. "It's a hard thing for a child to tell a parent. He was probably worried about how you would react."

"Well, he should be! I don't know if I can ever look him in the face again, knowing this about him."

Anne said persuasively, "Just give him a chance - see the two of them together. When you see how happy they are - "

"It's not just that. It's - it's _everything_. What about their jobs? If anyone finds out, they're finished."

"They know that. But the FBI isn't the world - there are plenty of other jobs out there for men with their qualifications."

Teena's mouth set. "Not for Fox. He knows that he has to stay there - it's his only chance to find his sister. Her best hope."

Anne's temper got the best of her. "Her best hope? What about him? What about your son?" She gestured at the pictures on the mantle. "You've surrounded yourself with images of your lost daughter and you've forgotten the child you have _here_! You have a wonderful son - bright and loving - hungry to share his life with you if you'd just let him."

"I _lost_ my baby girl! What would you know about loss?"

"More than you imagine." Anne got up and walked to the fireplace, staring at the items on the mantle with unseeing eyes. "I sent a strong, healthy, happy young man off to war, to serve his country. What I got back was a walking ghost." Her voice trembled and she tried to steady it. "He was so skinny you could practically see every rib and just getting out of a chair exhausted him. There were scars - everywhere; he was pieced back together like a patchwork quilt. He couldn't sleep at night without a light in his room and even then - " Tears were running down her cheeks. "Even then he would have horrible nightmares, would walk up screaming. And he stopped talking. For three weeks, he didn't say a word - just those screams in the night."

Teena watched her, face expressionless. "I am sorry, but this has nothing to do with me."

Anne turned back, dashing away the tears on her cheeks, regaining her serenity. "It has _everything_ to do with you. When I got my son back, when he pulled through and I _really_ got him back, I realized that every day is a gift. There are no guarantees for tomorrow - all we have is today. You've got to _try_ to put things right with your son because one day it will be too late and you will wish that you had."

Teena stood up, shaking her head. "No. Thank you for coming, but it's already too late."

Anne conceded defeat, let Teena Mulder politely but firmly escorted her out the front door, and got back in her car. She sat there for a long moment, wondering if she had made things better or worse, then picked up the phone and called her son.

* * *

Skinner hung up the phone and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes wearily. It was only 9 on a Monday morning but it felt like it should be late afternoon. They had spent a busy weekend getting Mulder settled into Skinner's apartment, physically and emotionally. For the most part, it had gone well, although the previous night Mulder had woken several times from a nightmare that he couldn't remember later but somehow involved fire.

And now his mother had called to tell him about her confrontation with Mulder's mother. Mulder wasn't going to be happy about this, he thought with a sigh. In fact, Mulder was going to be pissed and he had every right. Although Skinner didn't know what good getting mad would do - Anne had just done what she thought was right. And, truth to tell, Skinner had longed to give Mulder's mother a piece of his mind for a long time - even before they became lovers. How could anyone treat such a beautiful, brilliant man so badly?

For now, the best thing that he could do would be to give Mulder something to distract him. An X-File to work on. Unfortunately, the only thing he had at present would take Mulder and Scully out of town for a couple days. He sighed and picked up a folder, frowning as he sat back in his chair and studied it.

The intercom buzzed. "Sir, Agents Mulder and Scully are here."

"Send them in."

Scully entered the office, followed by Mulder. "Agents, have a seat."

They settled into chairs across from his desk, and Mulder noticed that Skinner glanced at him briefly before looking at Scully.

 _Hmm, my 'spidey' senses are tingling,_ he thought. _Something is wrong._

"I need you to go to Chicago as soon as possible, to perform a threat assessment." Skinner filled them in on the Vinyl Right Company, telling them about a previous incident in the company's history.

Mulder had been studying him. "Why can't the Chicago field office take care of it?"

His tone was just this side of insolence, and Skinner looked at him, expressionless. "Because I'd prefer _you_ did."

That mocking glint was back in Mulder's eye, the one that started pushing all of Skinner's buttons and made him realize that it had been a long, long time since they had been to the Club. Perhaps they should make time for it this coming weekend, he thought.

"Because the manifesto contains bizarre overtones? Claims of a paranormal nature?"

Coolly, Skinner said, "It speaks of a monster stalking the employees. Your insight into such claims should aid in accessing the threat, if any, posed by this person."

"Monsters?" Mulder gave him a mocking smile. "I'm your boy."

The look Skinner gave him across the desk told him just exactly what he would like to do to his 'boy', then Skinner glanced over at Scully, then back at Mulder with compressed his lips. Mulder recognized a dismissal when he saw one and collected the file, heading out into the hallway.

Scully joined him and Mulder sighed. "I must have done something to piss him off this weekend."

Scully looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Getting stuck with this jerk-off assignment - or have I finally reached that magic point in my career where every time someone sees Bigfoot or the Virgin Mary on a tortilla I get called out of my basement warren to offer my special insight on the matter?" His head ached and he rubbed his forehead wearily. He hadn't slept well the night before, sleep disturbed by vague nightmares that even the warm and substantial presence of his lover couldn't dispel.

"You're saying 'I' a lot - I heard 'we'. Or do I assume that this case is just a waste of our time?"

"Not yours anyway. There's no reason both of us should go to Chicago. I'll take care of it." He gave her a half-smile and started down the hallway.

"Mulder - "

"I'm monster boy, right?" he called back to her. Scully watched him, her face troubled, and wondered if there was something wrong between the two men. And, if so, what she could do about it.

* * *

And a day later, she was convinced that something was wrong. She had come into the office that morning to find Mulder there already when she had been certain he would take the day off - especially considering the ordeal he had been through the previous day in Chicago. He looked exhausted, almost feverish, and she was certain that he had come straight there from the airport instead of going home. He had rambled about a creature able to disguise itself, had admitted that he saw the monster as well, and had headed back to Chicago to continue his investigation. Without her, as she found herself unable to support his belief.

And now she had been called into Skinner's office. Scully was not in the least bit happy and, if Mulder had been anywhere around, probably would have considered shooting him in the _other_ shoulder. Her ire evaporated when she saw Skinner 's face and heard what he _didn't_ say under the careful phrases.

"Agent Scully, I was hoping that you could give me some insight into Agent Mulder's recent behavior." The concern on his face was more than that of a supervisor, so she guessed that Mulder had talked to Skinner even less than he had to her. "Why is he back in Illinois? I thought that case was closed."

Aware of the very real possibility that the office was bugged, she said cautiously, "Agent Mulder believes that there may be a connection between the Oakbrook incident and several other cases."

Skinner's eyes studied her, and she saw the reproach in them. "But you elected not to join him. The Chicago field office has been in contact with him and they say that his behavior has been - erratic."

Scully felt guilty. She should have gone with him; they both knew what Mulder was like on a case and she knew that he was exhausted and likely to go off half-cocked when he was like this. "To the best of my knowledge, Agent Mulder is working on a legitimate investigation. I will join him in Illinois immediately."

Skinner frowned, looking at the file he was holding. "Don't you have an autopsy to do first? This body Mulder sent to Quantico - the shooting victim." Scully looked at him blankly and he looked puzzled. "You are scheduled to do an examination - or didn't you know that?"

 _I will kill you, Mulder_ , she thought, grinding her teeth together. "I'll get right on it, Sir." She started towards the door, determined to practice some newly learned intimidation techniques on him when she saw him next.

Skinner's voice caught her before she reached the door, and she was startled at the tentative tone in it. "Is there something you want to tell me, Scully?

She glanced at Skinner and saw her own anxiety reflected back. It was enough to cool her temper for the moment, to make her smile slightly to relieve his worries. "No, sir."

She was holding onto her temper by a thread when she arrived at Quantico and prepared for the autopsy, telling the pathologist assisting her to do an external examination only. While he did that, she pulled out her cell phone, determined to give her partner a piece of her mind.

"- Estimated time of death between 48 and 72 hours."

That caught her attention, and she swung around. "No. The time of death was yesterday afternoon." But then she took a look at the corpse, remembering the clear and - yes, sane! - certainty in her partner's eyes. There _was_ something peculiar about the amount of decomposition.

"I've changed my mind. Let's do a full autopsy."

Hours later, staring at the results of the lab phone, she picked up her cell phone and called another cell phone number. "Sir? I think we need to talk. Agent Mulder may be in grave danger."

* * *

Twenty-four hours later, Mulder entered his motel room wearily and set the hospital bag containing his personal items on the table, then went to tap on the connecting door. "Hi, honey, I'm home."

Skinner opened the door and came into the room, frowning. "Don't you _ever_ do that again."

Mulder looked at him blankly. "What? Call you 'honey'? I didn't know you were that sensitive."

"Mulder, that's not what I was talking about - and you know it."

"Scully back yet?"

"Yeah - she finished with the local office an hour ago." Skinner gestured with his head towards the wall opposite Skinner's room. "She's in her room, working on her report and will meet us at breakfast. In the meantime, Mulder, we need to talk."

Mulder sighed and rubbed his temples. These headaches were becoming more frequent. "Can we _not_ do this tonight? I have a splitting headache."

"I'm not surprised." Skinner went back through his connecting door and returned with a bottle of chilled water and a handful of tablets. "Here."

"What's this? Aspirin?"

"Yeah - I'm saving the cyanide till I take out that massive life insurance policy on you. I figure with all the bizarre things that happen to you, no one will notice when you keel over dead and at last I'll be free to live that life of luxury I've been dreaming about."

Mulder tossed down the tablets. "That's what I love about you, Walter - the poetry in your soul and the way you sweep me off my feet."

"Well, if sweeping is required - " Skinner swept the younger man up into his arms, carried him through to his own room, and deposited him on the bed with a bounce.

"Walter, you brute."

"And you love it." Skinner sat down and started removing Mulder's shoes.

Mulder sat up and pulled off his sweatshirt, making a face at the ache in his muscles. "Speaking of which, you were a little rough with that take-down earlier today."

"Just going along with the role - had to make it believable for Pincus."

Mulder snorted. "I think you got off on pinning me down on that desk."

Skinner grinned. "Always." He lifted the covers for Mulder to scoot under. "Seriously, though. We're going to have a long, long talk in the morning. Complete with AD growls and everything."

Mulder sighed and closed his eyes. "It's not my fault that the nurse got involved, Scully sidetracked, or that I wasn't able to defend myself. And you agreed to the plan to set me up as bait. You just didn't expect anyone - or anything - to show up." At the silence that greeted his words, he opened his eyes to find Skinner looking down at him with troubled eyes. He sighed. "Don't beat yourself up over it, Walter. It's not like that hasn't happened before this. And I thought it was a pretty unbelievable story when I first heard it - someone disguising himself, 'hiding in plain sight'. I'm just glad that Scully's autopsy showed that toxin or I might have been in the Painting with your Toes class right now. Or dead."

"I never would have agreed to commit you, Mulder. Besides the fact that I don't have the authority to do so - "

"That reminds me," Mulder murmured. "I need to change my Power of Attorney. And my will."

Skinner felt his mouth go dry. "Fox - "

"Walter, shut up and come to bed."

Skinner undressed and slipped under the covers, and Mulder rolled over to snuggle against his shoulder.

After a moment, he said, quietly, "He's still out there, you know."

"Yeah. I know. While you were getting discharged, I had some men go over to pick up Pincus. He's gone - along with half a dozen employees and that nurse."

"And Scully?"

Skinner hesitated. "She saw - something. Too dark to make it out clearly. And you - well, you were drugged."

Stubbornly, Mulder said, "I know what I saw, Walter."

"I know, babe. We'll talk in the morning. Tonight I just want to hold you while you sleep." He turned off the light and there was silence for a long moment.

"Do you think I've seriously lost it?"

"Lost what?"

" _It_. That edge. The line between sanity and insanity."

"You're not crazy, Mulder," Skinner said, affectionately, kissing the top of his lover's head. "Infuriating, exasperating, headstrong, thick-headed - but not crazy."

Mulder chuckled softly and turned his head to nuzzle Skinner's neck. "Love you, too, Walter." He snuggled down closer into Skinner's arms, falling asleep easily, while Skinner held him and tried not to think about how close he had come to losing him again.

* * *

"Mulder! Where in the hell have you been hiding yourself?"

Mulder turned with a grin at the sound of the familiar voice. "What - couldn't get into enough trouble on your own?"

Sean grinned impishly. "Oh, I don't have any problems in that department. I can always find _something_ to stir up Geoff - when I want to. But, as a matter of fact, I've been a very good boy lately." His eyes twinkled. "I have references if you want to check them out."

Mulder gave him a look of mock-disapproval. "And you a married man!"

"I'm married, not dead. Speaking of which, you look three-fourths dead. You've got to get your man to let you _sleep_ sometime."

"Ha-ha."

"Seriously, Mulder," and Sean shifted from his flighty-bottom persona, "you don't look good. Something wrong between you and the Mountain?"

Mulder shook his head. "No. We're fine. As a matter of fact, he asked me to move in with him while we were on vacation. I've just been having trouble sleeping, and I keep getting these killer headaches."

Sean looked troubled. "Have you been back to see Dr. Kate lately?"

"Great - you think I'm nuts, too."

Sean frowned. "Just because you're seeing a therapist doesn't mean you're nuts. I see Kate once a month, just to talk. And what do you mean 'too'?"

"I’d rather not talk about it right now."

"Mulder, you know that I'm not going to let it go, so you might as well talk to me."

Mulder sighed, unlocking the door to Skinner's suite, and led the way inside. "God, you are one pushy sub," he grumbled.

"Yep. Talk, or I'll get out the thumbscrews."

Mulder threw himself down onto the couch, grinning. "Walter has thumbscrews in that cabinet? Kinky."

"Mulder, I'm counting to five and then I'm calling in the big guns," Sean said ominously. "Geoff and Dana are training downstairs."

"Shit, you don't play fair, do you?"

"One….. two…"

"Okay, okay, I'm talking." Mulder sighed again. "Bad case this past week. Hell, the past two weeks have been unbelievable. Last week I was involved with a terrorist group and helped hold up a bank and got my fingers broken and nearly had a bullet put in my brain. This week was worse. Walter and Scully had to - had to pretend to commit me to try to catch a monster. Only - I'm not sure that they were entirely certain that I _wasn't_ going crazy. Add that to the fact that Walter's pushing - in the nicest way possible - for me to move in completely, and I'm scared to death of that whole commitment thing anyway. Oh, and I came out to my mother and she hung up on me. All in all, a stellar two weeks."

"Shit, Mulder," Sean said sympathetically, sitting on the couch next to him. "You don’t go for the normal problems, do you?"

"I don't think the word 'normal' is in my dictionary."

"Well, I don't think you're crazy. And I doubt that Walter or Dana seriously believes that, either. As for the rest - I'm here whenever you want to talk, or you can talk to Dr. Kate. It can help to talk to someone objective."

"Thanks," Mulder said gratefully, then glanced at his watch. "I'd better get moving. Walter'll be here soon and I haven't shaved in _weeks_."

Sean grinned, unfolding from the couch. "Yeah, I'd hate to be the cause of a sore bottom - unless you wanted one."

Mulder turned to start unpacking his bag. "We don't do that kind of stuff."

"Not even once, to try it out? Guy, you don't know what you're missing."

Mulder flushed and took his kit into the bathroom, and Sean sat back with a grin, mentally counting. _Five…Four…Three…Two…One…_

"Um - Sean?"

 _Bingo._ "What, Mulder?"

"Do you really enjoy it?"

"Define 'it'."

"You know what I'm talking about."

"You mean taking a trip across Geoff's knee? Going sunny-side up? Having my buns toasted?" He lowered his voice and said, theatrically, "Getting a spanking? Geez, Mulder, how are you going to even ask about it if you can't say the words? Say 'Sean, do you enjoy getting a spanking?' "

"You are a bastard, Sean."

"Say it."

Mulder sighed. "Okay. Sean, do you enjoy getting a spanking?"

Sean leaned back, grinning widely. "Oh, yeah. But then, I'm a pain slut."

"Why?"

"Why do I enjoy it?" Sean shrugged. "It makes me hot." His face got a dreamy expression. "When Geoff decides that it's time to take down my pants and turn me over his knee for a warm-up, I get so turned on - sometimes I don’t last till the spanking's over. Even if it's a punishment spanking, the way he takes care of me afterward makes it worth the pain."

"Wait - he doesn't just spank you for punishment?"

"Of course not. If he did, I'd be getting into trouble all the time and he knows it. I'm a masochist, Mulder," Sean said patiently. "I like the sexy tingle of a warm-up and the burn of a serious spanking. Luckily, Geoffrey's a sadist and really likes seeing a boy with a red bottom - that's why we're so good together. And when it's time for a serious paddling, he's the best - he can take me so far down inside myself, make me release everything so that I go down crying but come up smiling."

Mulder sat down on the bed, staring at Sean, then shuddered. "I don't think I could do that. I'm not into pain."

"Not everyone is. A lot of people like getting an erotic spanking, though - just some light slaps mixed in with stroking and kissing and fucking. Just enough of a tingle to make the sex really hot."

Mulder frowned, about to ask him more, when a click at the door startled them both. "Shit!" He rushed into the bathroom, tearing off his clothes and jumping into the shower.

Skinner looked at Sean in surprise. "Are you in the wrong room or am I?"

Sean grinned. "Don’t you wish," he said provocatively, then laughed as Skinner frowned at him. "Your boy's in the shower. He was looking a little down when he got here, so we were having a talk." He gave Skinner a troubled look. "I really think he needs to talk to someone like Dr. Kate. He seems to have a lot of issues and, frankly, he looks like hell."

"I know," Skinner said with a sigh. "He hasn't been sleeping well. I'm hoping this weekend will give us a chance to get back in touch with his needs."

"Well, good luck, and have him give Kate a call, okay? He's a little closer to the edge than I like to see."

After Sean left, Skinner stepped into the bathroom. "Fox?"

"In here, Sir," came a voice from the shower. "I'm sorry I'm running late."

"It's okay," Skinner said, shedding his own clothes. "We've gotten a little out of the rhythm. Besides," he said, stepping into the shower with a smile, "any chance I get to shower with you is a gift."

Mulder grinned at him, brandishing the razor. "Actually, you caught me prepping."

"Then let me do it for you." Skinner took the razor. "How far had you gotten?" he asked, running his hand over Mulder's smooth chest, down to his groin. "Here?"

"Yes, sir," Mulder said, trying to stand still as Skinner examined him.

Skinner applied the shaving gel to Mulder's groin and carefully began shaving him. "I was talking to Sean out there."

Mulder swallowed hard. "Um - what about? Sir."

"He's worried about you."

"Oh," Mulder said, relief in his voice.

Skinner looked up at him, questioningly. "What did you think we had talked about?"

"Nothing," Mulder said quickly. "So, Sean's worried about me."

Skinner decided to let the other matter drop for now. Mulder would tell him when he was ready, one way or another. "Yes. He thinks you should talk to Dr. Kate again." He lifted Mulder's balls to shave underneath and heard the intake of breath. "What do you think?"

Mulder tried to remain still, always unsettled when Skinner did this to him. "Um - I guess."

"I love the decisiveness in that remark, Kitten," Skinner said dryly. He hefted the balls in his hand. "I think you're in too vulnerable a position here to be playing games with me, boy."

"It's just - it's been a rough two weeks."

"Fox, I don't think you're crazy."

"But you didn't believe that I saw what I said that I did. You're _still_ not sure that I saw it."

"I believe you. But whether I believe or not doesn't matter. What matters is whether _you_ still believe."

Mulder gave him a wry smile. "I want to believe."

Skinner smiled and hugged him. "Yeah. I know. Come, let's finish up here. I know someone who needs a little refresher on what being a sub is all about."

Mulder chuckled against Skinner's shoulder and felt his whole body begin to respond to the promise in those words. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Skinner entered his suite, having enjoyed a pleasant hour getting a massage while his sub worked out in the gym. He smiled when he saw that Mulder was already there, sprawled across the bed, his hair still damp and spiky from his shower. The sub was reading something and was so absorbed that he hadn't even noticed that Skinner had returned.

"You're studying that so intently, it must be one of those infamous newsletters from your friends. What government conspiracy have they uncovered this month?"

Mulder sat up abruptly, his face turning bright red, and ditched the reading material over the side of the bed. "You're back!"

"Good guess. I knew there was a reason you worked for the FBI, Mulder." He walked over to the bed and held out his hand. "Hand it over."

"It's nothing, really. Just something Sean gave me to read."

"My hand is not sitting out here for pigeons to roost on, boy," Skinner growled. "I believe I gave you an order."

Reluctantly, Mulder leaned over the bed and retrieved the fallen book, then placed it in Skinner's outstretched hand. Skinner glanced at the title, expecting it to be one of Mulder's UFO books, then looked again and nearly fell over.

"Fox, why are you reading a book about SM scenes?" Mulder had pulled his knees up against his chest with his arms wrapped around them and his face was buried against his knees. He mumbled something that Skinner couldn't hear. "Speak up, boy. I can't understand you."

Mulder lifted his head, not meeting Skinner's eyes. "Sean said something about that yesterday - and I was a little curious - so he gave me that to read."

 _More than a little curious,_ Skinner thought, noticing that Mulder's cock was half-hard and had probably been even harder before he had entered the room.

"And what did you think?" he asked.

Mulder flushed again. "I mean, most of it looked a little intense, but there was one thing that - um - caught my interest."

"Yes?"

"Well, there was this 'scene' they were describing where the older man was - um - spanking the younger one - "

"You want me to _spank_ you?"

Mulder flushed again. "Not - not _seriously_. I mean, I didn't like it that one time when you did it, although the sex afterward was great. But this was - like a game. And - um - they got really hot and I - um - "

Skinner smiled. "Cranked your motor, did it, Kitten?"

"Oh, _yeah_ ," Mulder breathed.

Skinner eyed the younger man, considering. So far, over the months that they had come here, he had concentrated on mental and physical domination, with an excursion into toys, but they had never played any real scenes. Mulder had never seemed to need anything like that before now, had seemed content with what they were doing. Still, he had been through a lot over the past few months, and maybe what he needed was to be taken further outside his head, to let it all go.

He glanced down at the book, making up his mind. "I didn't see this book on the list of reference materials that I told you were acceptable for you to read."

Mulder looked at him, frowning. "I told you that Sean gave it to me - "

"Oh, so is _Sean_ now in charge of your education?"

He saw Mulder's head jerk up, his eyes catch fire as he realized Skinner's intent. "No, sir."

"Who is in charge of you, boy?"

"You are, sir."

"That's right. _I_ decide what you do here at the Club, and what you read both here and at home in regard to our D/s relationship. And it was a bad idea for you to start messing with things that you're not ready to handle, boy."

Mulder was watching his Dom with wide, appreciative eyes. He loved it when Skinner got tough with him, growled at him, took control of every aspect of his body. Now Skinner was going further than he had before, and Mulder was just beginning to realize how much he wanted more. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Not as sorry as you're going to be," Skinner growled, watching Mulder's nostrils flare with anticipation. "Okay, boy, I think you've just earned yourself a spanking. Get on your hands and knees, ass in the air."

Mulder rolled over on his belly and quickly pushed himself up on his hands and knees, face pressed down into the mattress. His cock automatically began to harden while he waited, breathless, for Skinner to continue this game. He felt the dip of the bed that told him that Skinner had crawled up behind him, felt those amazingly gentle hands running over his ass.

"So beautiful," Skinner murmured, leaning over to kiss the smooth cheeks before him. "I like seeing you like this, Kitten." He lifted his hand and brought it down on the pale ass waiting for him, imparting a slight sting, more sound than anything. Mulder caught his breath, then moaned when Skinner followed up the swat with a gentle caress across the sensitive skin. Skinner repeated the pattern, a swat followed by a caress, sometimes with his hand and sometimes with his tongue, until Mulder's whole ass was slightly pink. Mulder responded with moans and whimpers, pushing his ass back and up, begging for more. Mulder's cock was hard and leaking by now, and Skinner grabbed for the lube, thrusting one finger into the tight hole to prep his lover.

Mulder pushed back against the invading finger. "Yeah, oh yeah! More, please, more."

Skinner leaned up over his sub, growling into his ear, "You like that, boy? I'm going to give it to you hard, teach you a lesson, and you're going to take it, aren't you?" He nipped at Mulder's neck, inserting two fingers and stroking him open.

Mulder pushed back onto those fingers, fucking himself on them. "Yes! Whatever you want! Do it!"

Skinner pulled out his fingers and swatted him again, a little harder, and Mulder bucked upward. Skinner slid into him in one smooth thrust, amazed at how relaxed and receptive his lover was, and groaned at the warmth of the sheath around him. Under him, Mulder let out a little sob, pushing back to take everything his Dom had to give him.

"God! Yes! Fuck me, Sir!"

Skinner stretched out over his lover's back, nipping at the shoulder, chuckling. "You want something, boy?"

Mulder tried to thrust back against the weight and warmth filling him. "Don't stop now! Fuck me, dammit!"

"Such a foul mouth, brat." Skinner pulled back and slammed in hard.

"And you love it." Mulder was panting, thrusting back to meet him eagerly. "Come on! Harder! Fuck me hard!"

"You got it, Kitten." He grabbed onto Mulder's hips and began rapidly thrusting, quick hard strokes that rocked his lover forward. "Like that, boy? Like me pounding your ass, filling you good?"

"Yes! God, yes!"

Skinner pulled out completely, making Mulder swear, and swatted the firm ass a couple more times, making it tingle, then thrust back in hard. Mulder was almost incoherent by now, frantically grinding himself against the sheets, meeting his Dom's movements. Skinner reached around, taking the hard cock in his own hand, pulling on it in rhythm with his thrusts and that was all it took. Mulder was coming, crying out and slamming back hard, taking Skinner with him.

They collapsed onto the mattress, both of them breathing hard, until Skinner got enough energy to pull out and flop onto his back next to the younger man. Mulder rolled over onto his side, grinning at the Dom.

"That was pretty hot."

"Any hotter and we would have set off the sprinkler system." Skinner reached out and pulled Mulder into his arms, settling him on his shoulder, and sighed contentedly.

Mulder laughed softly. "No one would believe it if they knew that the gruff AD was a snuggler in bed."

"Yeah, well, you just keep that to yourself or I just might have to warm these buns again," he growled, cupping a firm cheek in his hand.

"Oh, what a threat." Mulder's eyes were drifting closed.

Skinner kissed the soft hair next to his chin. "You're starting to scare me, babe. Next thing I know, you'll be dressing in black leather and coming after me with a whip."

Mulder snickered, snuggling deeper into his lover's arms. "I think you're safe. I seem to be a classic bottom."

"Oh, you're a classic, all right." Skinner squeezed him affectionately. "Nap time, Kitten."

There was no answer except a soft snore.

Skinner lay there listening to the soft sounds, pleasantly content in body but strangely disturbed in mind. Mulder had wanted this, had gotten seriously into the scene, and it had been a mild scene as such things go. So why did he have that stomach-dropping feeling that he had just nudged them off the top of the roller coaster called their life?  



	33. Changes in Attitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recent changes in their games make Skinner step back to evaluate their Dom/sub relationship, while Mason and Sean run into some communication problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Changes in Latitude" by Jimmy Buffet.

_It's these changes in latitude, changes in attitude_   
_Nothing remains quite the same_   
_With all of our running and all of our cunning_   
_If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane._

 

Mulder woke to the delicious feeling of total and complete satiation in mind and body. A satisfied sigh escaped him and he went over each moment of the previous session in his memory. The whole scene had been so hot, the slight sting of pain from the spanking combined with the intense pleasure from Skinner's lovemaking making his climax more intense than he could ever remember. He stretched experimentally, noticing that there was nothing but the usual discomfort after a hard ride and hopped out of bed to check his backside in the mirror. Just a very faint redness remained, and he found that he was oddly disappointed not to have any more obvious souvenirs. Maybe next time, he thought with a smile.

"I never knew you were so vain, Kitten."

Mulder grinned and turned to see that Skinner was lying on his back in the bed, watching him with a smug look on his face. He took a few running steps, pouncing on the bed and straddling the older man.

"You look awfully smug this afternoon."

"And why shouldn't I be? I seem to recall someone in this bed doing a lot of begging earlier."

Mulder snorted. "Like that 's unusual." He leaned over to kiss Skinner lovingly. "You always seem to have that effect on me."

Skinner folded his arms around Mulder, settling him down on his body. "Years of practice, brat." He ran his hand down over Mulder's ass, relieved to feel that there was no evidence of their earlier game-playing. The skin was smooth and cool to the touch. "You okay, babe?"

"Very okay." Mulder nuzzled the skin under his chin.

"So why were you looking at your ass in the mirror? I didn't leave any marks or bruises."

Mulder sighed. "I know. I was hoping there would be some sort of reminder. That was the hottest sex I've ever had." He was quiet for a moment as he stroked Skinner's chest. "Walter, do you think that next time you could do it a little harder?"

There was silence for a long moment and then Skinner said, grimly, "There won't be another time."

"But Walter - "

"Don't argue with me, Fox. I'm the Dom and I determine what games we play. You wanted to try it, I was willing to give you a taste, but that's as far as it goes."

"But I don't understand - it was hot, we both enjoyed it, there was no real pain and no lasting damage - "

"I said 'no', Fox," Skinner said sharply. "If you want to keep playing here, then you will listen to me and obey me. Otherwise this ends here and now."

Mulder sat up, looking down at Skinner with a hurt and bewildered look on his face. "I always obey you here, Walter."

"I know. And speaking of orders, hop in the shower and get cleaned up."

Mulder gave him a long, puzzled look and then silently got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Remorse filled Skinner. He had spoken too harshly to the younger man, giving no reason for his decision. Not that he was obligated to explain himself to his sub, but Mulder was also his lover, which complicated the matter. And how could he tell the younger man about the chill that had filled him as he heard Mulder say those same words that Krycek had said at the end of their first session?

He got out of bed and dressed quickly. What he needed now was a little space to think this situation over. Leaving a note for Mulder, he almost ran out of the room.

* * *

Mulder came out of the bathroom toweling his hair dry and found that the suite was empty. Looking around for clue regarding his Dom's disappearance, his eyes fell on the SM book sitting on the nightstand. He sat down and reached for it, seeing as he did that there was a note attached to the cover.

 

_Fox - see that this gets back to its proper owner. Immediately. W._

 

Well, that seemed to settle that subject, Mulder thought with a sigh. The Great and Mighty Dom had spoken and his humble servant would obey - or suffer the consequences. He dragged himself off bed, threw on sweats and sneakers, and headed out on his mission.

He ran Sean to ground in the Billiard Room where he found the younger sub idly knocking the balls around the table. Sean's face brightened when he saw him.

"Mulder! A friendly face at last!"

Mulder grinned. "Are you in the doghouse again? And here you said you were being good."

Sean sighed and racked the balls. "Geoff's putting Dana through a training session, no subs allowed."

"Kicked out of your suite?"

"No - well, technically yes. They use my old suite for training but I haven't used it since I moved in with Geoff. And I am heartily sick of staring at the walls in our place. Jean-Pierre won't let me mess about in the kitchen and everyone else is out or playing." He looked at Mulder hopefully. "Care for a game?"

Mulder shook his head regretfully. "I'm on a mission." He held out the book. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."

"Keep it," Sean said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I know that one by heart."

"Can't," Mulder said regretfully, setting the book on the table. "Though I did find it very interesting. Have you done _everything_ in that book?"

"Just about," Sean said with a shrug. "And most more than once. But what do you mean you can't keep it? I'm serious - I can easily get another copy."

Mulder shoved his hands into his pocket and studied his shoes. "Walter put his foot down."

Sean frowned. "Excuse me?"

Mulder sighed. "Walter refuses to consider playing deeper games. He says that we play it his way - or not at all."

"But Mulder - "

"Yeah. I know - it stinks. But what can I do, Sean? He's in charge. I got him to show me a little bit but that seems to have shut him down completely."

Sean pounced on his words. "What do you mean, he showed you a little?" Mulder flushed and mumbled something. Sean sighed. "Mate, I'm not blessed with super-hearing. Try that again - slower and in English."

"The erotic spanking thing. He - we did that."

"Mulder!" Sean crowed in delight, hugging his embarrassed friend. "Good for you! Well? Did you like it?"

"Oh, yeah," Mulder admitted with a grin. "It was very hot. I wouldn't mind doing that again, actually. Not that it’s likely to happen now." He sighed. "Gotta go - I'm hunting down my elusive Dom now. He took off while I was in the shower."

"Listen Mulder, give him a little time to calm down and then bring it up again. It's part of your job as a sub to let him know what you want, and it's his job to take care of you. Show him what you need and - if it is safe - work with him on getting those needs met. But first you have to figure out exactly what it was about that scene you liked, what really turned you on and set you off."

Mulder nodded. "Thanks, Sean. Well, I better see if I can find him before there's hell to pay."

Sean watched Mulder leave, smiling to himself. New subs in the process of self-discovery were a joy to watch, and Mulder was a favorite of his. He hoped that the two men could work this little issue out, figure out where they were going together.

He turned back to the table and expertly broke, then studied the resulting placement of the balls without much enthusiasm. The fact of the matter was he was bored and he was unhappy. Mason hadn't returned to their suite last night; in fact, he hadn't seen the man since Dana Scully had arrived for training the previous evening. They had disappeared into Sean's old suite, the rooms reserved for "Mr. Matthews" that they had turned into an auxiliary playroom after Sean moved in with Mason, and he hadn't heard a word since then. Technically, he had a cardkey for the door and could have gone into the suite - but he knew that his lover would be furious with him for interrupting a training session. So unless he had a really good reason for interrupting, he knew that it was best to leave the two Doms alone. And he didn't have a good reason. He was just jealous.

Not physically jealous. He knew that Mason had rarely slept with the juniors he trained or the subs he had played with. And since the day that they had first come together, Sean knew that there had been no one else in Mason's bed. Mason wouldn't take chances - not with Sean's heart or with another person's health. For himself, Mason was willing to accept the risk although they took every precaution against infection, but Mason was too conscientious to risk any one else.

No, he wasn’t worried about Mason’s sexual fidelity; he was jealous of the time Mason had to spend away from him. Telling himself that it was stupid and selfish did no good. He liked Dana Scully and he was happy to see Mason occupied in doing one of the things he loved best - training another top. But that didn't keep him from spending the previous night curled around Mason's pillow, missing the man whose presence was vibrant and reassuring even when asleep. Sean hadn't slept much last night and now, as a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him, he remembered that he hadn't taken his medication this morning. Mason would have his hide.

Sean put down the pool cue and picked up the book, heading towards his suite. He would take his medicine and try to catch a nap before Mason got back.

* * *

Sean entered their suite, so deep in thought that he didn't notice for a moment that his lover and master was there. Upon seeing Mason sitting on the couch, he dropped the book on the seat and threw himself into the welcoming arms, raining kissed on the beloved face as he straddled Mason's lap.

"Easy, baby, easy!" Mason laughed, warmly embracing the younger man. "Miss me?"

"More than you can imagine." There was a slight pout on his lips. "I was cold and lonely without you last night."

Mason nipped at his spouse's chin. "It couldn't be helped. Dana had a break-through last night and needed to talk it through. You _know_ how important that is, my love."

"More important than me?"

Mason kissed the pouting lips lightly. " _Nothing_ is more important than you, my love. You are my heart and my life." His eyes studied Sean's anxiously, noting the circles under the younger man's eyes. "You okay, baby?"

Sean dropped his head onto Mason's shoulder, ashamed of his jealous sulking. "Yeah. Just had a little trouble sleeping alone. I'm sorry for complaining."

Mason squeezed him. "And I'm sorry that you were lonely last night, but I also have a responsibility to Dana. If you had really needed me, I would have been here for you and you know that." He nuzzled at the neck exposed to him. "Is my naughty, jealous little imp cruising for a spanking?"

Sean wiggled slightly on Mason's lap. "Don't tease, Geoff."

Mason chuckled. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?" As he continued to caress Sean’s back, soothing the younger man, his eyes fell on the book that Sean had dropped on the couch. "I thought you had this book memorized."

Sean chuckled, snuggling deeper into Mason's arms. "I wasn't reading it - Mulder borrowed it."

"Mulder? Why? They don't do SM scenes."

"He was curious - and _that_ may change. He talked the Mountain into a little erotic spanking earlier today."

Mason frowned. "He did?"

"Hm-hmm." Sean nipped at Mason's neck. "Pretty hot stuff, too, from what he said. Liked it so much that he asked to try heavier games."

"Oh, shit," Mason muttered. He grasped Sean's arms and pushed him back slightly so that he could look Sean in the face. "What did Walter say about that?"

Sean frowned. "Evidently he went ballistic and told Mulder 'no' and that was final. A sort of 'my way or the highway' ultimatum. Mulder caved but I told him - "

"What?" Mason asked sharply. "What did you tell him?"

"That it’s his job to let his Dom know what he needs, to push for it."

"Oh, shit!" Mason pushed Sean off his lap and went to the phone. "No answer. Either they're not there or they're not answering," he muttered to himself. He dialed the desk and found out that they had not checked out yet. Mason sighed, rubbing tired eyes. "I'll try to get hold of Walter in the morning."

Mason turned and looked across the room at his lover. After being roughly pushed off Mason's lap, Sean had flung himself into the armchair, arms and legs hugged tightly against his chest, in full sulk mode.

"Little one, you don't know what you've done."

"Obviously," Sean said sarcastically.

Mason crossed the room, grasping Sean's chin and looking down at him sternly. "That's enough of that, young man. You are _this_ close to going over my knee for a punishment spanking. Do you understand me, Sean?"

Subdued, Sean murmured, "Yes, Geoff. I'm sorry." Then, plaintively, he added, "But I don't understand. What did I do wrong?"

"Trying to get Mulder to manipulate Walter into doing something that he swore he would never do again - "

"Hold it - what do you mean 'swore he'd never do'? You _trained_ him in SM, Geoff - I know, I was there, remember?"

"Yeah, and remember how he quit after Krycek?"

Sean looked blank. "No. Last thing I remember, the two of them were playing fine. Rough games, sure, but I had no room to complain at the time."

Mason sat down on the couch, rapidly thinking back. "That's right, you weren't here. Everything went to hell at the same time."

"When I - when I came back, Skinner was gone and Krycek was playing with that creep, Benett. I thought the Mountain had moved away at first. But when he didn't come to our commitment ceremony and you didn’t talk about him, I thought maybe something had - happened to him. All the rest of your boys were there - "

Sean saw the pained look on Mason's face and realized for the first time how much Skinner's disappearance had hurt the man that Sean loved beyond life. He slipped out of his chair, kneeling beside Mason, his head on Mason's lap. "Geoff, I'm so sorry. I wish I could make it better."

Mason sighed and pulled Sean onto his lap, and Sean straddled him again, snuggling close. "I know, brat. And I should have told you about it – especially when he came back – but I didn’t know what to say. I still don't know the full story – he won't talk about it. One day, while you were still at Dr. Kate’s, I came back to the Club and found Walter’s note of resignation from the Club on my desk, along with his access cards.

"I knew that Krycek was a black hole sub, that he kept demanding more and more from Walter. Walter was afraid that he was becoming addicted to the rougher games, that he would seriously hurt someone, but he couldn't seem to stop. Something must have happened, something that snapped Walter, and he walked. He only came back here to protect Mulder, and I wouldn't be surprised if our old friend Spender set it all up to try to bring Skinner down. In fact - "

Sean waited for him to continue, then prompted, "What?"

"Nothing. It's just - odd that it happened at about the same time, that's all," Mason said slowly. "And then all that business with Krycek breaking into Skinner's room to harass Mulder last November. I thought it was just jealousy, but maybe there's more to it." He silently resolved to talk to Dana Scully about Spender, see if she knew anything about the man.

But for now, he turned his attention back to Sean, noting again the telltale signs that Sean had been neglecting his health. "Never mind them - I'll talk to Walter and it'll be fine. And from now on, _talk_ to me before you start on one of your sub-projects, okay?"

"Yes, Geoff," Sean said meekly.

"And now," Mason said, standing with the younger man in his arms. "I think it's time that I spent some time concentrating on my very sexy, very naughty little imp."

Sean grinned and wrapped his legs around Mason's waist as the bigger man carried him toward the bedroom. "Yes, Master Geoff. Anything you say."

* * *

Mulder entered the suite, frustrated in his efforts to locate Skinner, and stopped as he saw the object of his search standing in front of the window. "Where the hell have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."

Skinner didn't turn around. "Here. I've been here. Thinking."

Mulder deliberately shut the door loudly. "Well, I did what you asked. I gave Sean back his fucking book."

He saw with satisfaction that those words caught Skinner's attention as the other man turned to look at him. Mulder turned his back on the Dom, quickly and methodically stripping off his clothes and placing them on the chair. He fastened the cuffs and picked up the collar, kneeling in his usual place with the collar before him, waiting to be acknowledged by the other man. His eyes were downcast, his posture perfectly submissive - and inside he was seething with anger.

Skinner studied the man waiting for him and knew exactly what was going through Mulder's mind at the moment. Despite himself, his troubled mood lifted and he found a smile trying to work its way onto his face. Mulder was almost as good at sulking as Sean -- not quite in the other sub's league yet, but close - and he was in full-sulk mode. He walked slowly over to Mulder, slowly circling him while he contemplated what to do about this. While he felt guilty about the way he had walked out earlier without explanation, he knew that Mulder was pushing him deliberately and trying to play off those guilt feelings. And he knew how to handle a pushy sub.

"On your belly, boy." Mulder went flat, arms stretched over his head, and Skinner had to admire his flawless display. Mulder had really gotten good at this. "You know, _boy_ , I didn't care for that tone of voice. Would you care to repeat what you just said?"

Mulder didn't particularly want to, but he knew a rhetorical question when he heard one. Gritting his teeth together, he said, "I did what you asked me to do. Sir. I gave Sean back his book. Sir."

"I get the feeling that you are not at all happy with me, Kitten. Am I wrong?"

"No, sir. I am - very angry with you."

"With me - your Dom - or with your lover?" Mulder was silent. "I believe I asked you a question, boy. Do you question my authority - as your Dom - to determine what kind of games we play? To give you orders that you may not particularly want to carry out?"

Mulder drew a deep breath. "No, Sir. You have that right."

"Exactly." Skinner went down on one knee next to Mulder's prone body, gently stroking the soft hair. In a gentler voice, he said, "And can you understand why - as your lover - I want to keep you as safe as possible? That sometimes my love and my fear may overwhelm me?"

Mulder lifted his head, turning to look at Skinner, and his anger began to melt away. "I understand, Walter," he said softly. "And can you understand that you piss me off when you pull that kind of shit? I thought we were working on this _together_ , Walter."

"I know, babe, and I'm sorry." He ran a hand down the sleek back. "Kneel up." Mulder obeyed and Skinner fastened the collar around Mulder's neck, then pulled the sub up from the floor. He took Mulder into his arms and kissed him, deeply and intensely, his hands caressing the younger man's back. "How about I make it up to you in the way that I do best? "

Mulder nearly purred at the attention he was receiving. "What did you have in mind?"

Skinner pushed Mulder down on the bed, pinning him and kissing his way down Mulder's body. "How about I tie you up, all nice and cozy, then drive you out of your mind?"

Mulder gasped and arched under the skillful mouth caressing his body. "You're the Dom."

"Glad that you realize that fact," Skinner growled, feeling the shiver go through the younger man. For some reason that he had yet to fathom, he had found that Mulder found the sound of his growling voice to be an incredible turn-on. And he was not one to waste a good trigger when he found one.

He took Mulder's right wrist and clipped the cuff to the ring on the post and then did the same thing to the left wrist. Sliding down the bed, he started to fasten the ankles and saw a slight look of panic come over Mulder's face. He stopped immediately, remembering the early days when Mulder hadn't been able to tolerate any restraint.

"Problem, Fox?" he asked softly.

Mulder swallowed, nodding slightly. "Could we not do the feet? After - it's just a little too much."

Skinner nodded, remembering seeing Mulder in five-point-restraints in the hospital just a few days earlier. "Whatever makes you most comfortable, Fox. And I won't leave the room while you're like this."

He got up and went over to the cabinet, surveying its contents and wondering what would be the best approach. He took out a few items and crossed back to the bed, taking a moment to survey the beautiful body laid out on the bed. Not for the first time, he wondered how he had ever gotten this lucky. Not only did he have this man as his lover and living in his home, but he also had him here at the Club to play with as he wished. Beautiful man, wonderfully submissive and responsive - and he would be damned before he hurt this man in any way.

"First, I think we'll take care of this little problem," he said, reaching out to casually stroke the sub's half-erect cock. Mulder groaned and hardened even more, and Skinner chuckled. "You are such a slut, my brat."

"T-thank you, Sir," Mulder gasped as Skinner fastened the cock ring around him.

"My pleasure, Kitten - and I intend to take my full pleasure from you."

Mulder licked his lips, watching the Dom avidly, trying to figure out what he was planning to do. He knew better than to ask, though. He had learned early in their games that asking was a good way to get oneself ignored having spent an entire afternoon tied flat on the bed while Skinner read the paper and drank coffee. The Dom would only reveal his plans as they unfolded but Mulder knew that they would be worth the wait.

Skinner finished by setting several small tubes on the bed and a bowl of water on the nightstand, then moved to straddle Mulder's hips on the bed. Picking up the tube, he applied a small amount to his hands, spreading it evenly over his palms and fingers.

"All right, Kitten; I think we've been having a slight communication problem here, and I think we need to go over the basics again - to refresh your memory."

Lightly, he began to stroke Mulder's skin, running his hands over his chest and belly. Mulder caught his breath as he recognized the familiar scent of menthol and he waited for the sensation of chilled heat to kick in. He tried to concentrate on his Dom's voice, knowing that he was talking about something important, but the delicious sensation was driving him wild.

"Who do you belong to, boy?"

"You, sir."

"And what do you owe me?"

Familiar territory, familiar words learned by heart during their first sessions, and it was just as well that he didn't have to think because his brain was slowly being fried by the gentle iced-heat building as hands moved slowly from his chest and up his restrained arms. "My submission, sir."

"And what are the four components of your submission?"

Oh, damn - how could he possibly think when that tempting mouth was bent over his body, blowing on his tits and setting his body on fire? "Um - to serve your needs."

"That's right, boy. _My_ needs." Skinner shifted down the luscious body, his hands running over smooth hipbones and down to the lean runner's legs. "What else."

"To please your desires."

Skinner chuckled softly. "I see you had no problem remembering that one." Hands moved slowly over the thighs, calves, down to the feet. "And you do please me, my Kitten. Very much."

"Thank you, Sir," Mulder gasped. "I love giving you pleasure."

"What else, boy?"

"To obey - to obey your orders."

Skinner's hands were running over his feet, just short of ticklish, caressing each individual toe and the instep. "I find it odd that you find this one so hard to do outside of the Club when you are perfectly obedient here." He paused. "Well, maybe not perfectly, but pretty damn close."

"It's not - it's not the same thing."

Skinner's hands were moving upward again, along the backs of his calves and thighs as he lifted the long legs and placed them on his shoulders. Mulder groaned, aching for the Dom to touch his genitals, to open Mulder for his use, but uncertain about the feel of that menthol on his most sensitive skin. Skinner paused, picking up a tube of lubricant and diluting the menthol remaining on his hands with the thick gel. He leaned over to blow a stream of air across Mulder's hypersensitive skin as his hands released the sub from the cock ring and began slowly stroking him.

"What else, Fox?"

Mulder groaned at the slightly heated feel of the lubricant/menthol mix on the sensitive skin of his cock and balls. It felt so wonderful, and he was losing his mind to the pleasure. "Wh-what, sir?"

"The fourth component of your submission. What is it?"

"Oh, God!" Mulder moaned. "To accept - your - domination."

"Very good, Kitten." Skinner leaned over to tease Mulder's mouth with his own as his hand continued to work. "And do you accept my domination? Are you mine to do with as I will?"

"Yes! Oh, please, yes! Anything you want, sir!"

Skinner reached up to release Mulder's right wrist. "Prepare yourself for me," he said, squeezing the lubricant into the other man's hand.

Mulder thought that he would come from the thought but quick pressure by skillful fingers stopped him. The older man had pushed Mulder's knees back against his chest and Mulder felt the sudden need to make his Dom as crazy with lust as he was. Slowly he circled one finger over his opening, teasing himself, knowing that Skinner was watching every movement. The fingertip broached the opening slightly, retreated, then advanced again moving deeper this time. Mulder groaned, feeling the tightness of his muscle around his finger, the hunger of his body for more. Slowly, teasingly, he pumped the finger in and out before adding another finger. Tighter now, and he worked to loosen the muscle and prepare himself to be taken by the Dom. His Dom. The hottest man in the Club, and he belonged to Mulder, and Mulder could see through his slitted eyes that he was watching as if this was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Mulder pulled his knees in tighter, three fingers moving now as he fucked himself before the other man. And somehow, while Mulder had been senselessly working, Skinner had cleaned his hands, shed his clothes and was now moving to kneel between Mulder's legs again.

"That's it, my little slut. Work yourself for me. Show me how much you want me to be fucking you."

"Want you - want you so much - "

"You've got me," Skinner growled, capturing the hand and refastening it to the headboard. Mulder moaned at the loss and wrapped long legs around Skinner's waist to try to pull him in. The older man moved into place and, with one steady thrust, pushed himself in to the root.

Mulder groaned with the bliss of being completely filled, wondering how he had ever lived without this sensation. Skinner was deep within him, moving with long, steady strokes. Mulder locked his ankles behind the older man's back, using his muscles to meet him thrust for thrust, and it was so good…

"Yes! Oh, God, Walter! Like that - just like that - Yes! Yes!"

With the part of his brain that was still functioning, Skinner registered the sudden shout and shuddering explosion and increased his thrusting. So close, so damned close, and his lover's body was so sweet, so tight, so perfect. With a low growl, he exploded as he pumped once, twice, and once more, then collapsed onto the body still shuddering under him.

It was several minutes before he could move, and when he was finally able to command his body, he unfastened the cuffs and rolled onto his back, pulling Mulder over with him. A slow, gentle hand stroked down the sub's sweaty body.

"You okay, babe?"

Mulder grinned. "Oh, yeah. Definitely okay. All my upper brain functions are toast, but the rest of me isn't complaining."

Skinner chuckled and settled Mulder closer. "Nap time."

He felt pretty smug at this point, having successful squashed Mulder's attempt to steer them into dangerous channels. He was certain that his point had been made, that there were plenty of things that they could do that were just as intense as those dangerous waters that Mulder wanted them to dive into. A couple more sessions like this, and Mulder would forget that he had ever been interested in the SM side of the games.

Mulder sighed blissfully and snuggled down against Skinner's shoulder to sleep. They were okay - they were better than okay. He smiled to himself - he may have returned the book to Sean but his photographic memory had already stored each page. And somehow, some way, he would convince Skinner that he was ready to try new things, that he was ready to venture into SM territory with Skinner as his guide. Persistence and patience would win the game.


	34. Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eve of big changes in their professional lives, Mulder and Skinner turn to each other for reassurance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go into AU territory (like I hadn't gone there already?) This story starts with a familiar episode and - with a few tiny exceptions - moves from there. Following chapters will pretty much treat Season Six as I would have liked to see it happen, so fair warning! 
> 
> Chapter quote comes from "Whenever I Remember Loving You" by Michael Bolton.

_When the rain is fallin' and I'm overcome_   
_With the doubts and demons of a love undone_   
_No voice need tell me that you were the one._   
_I’ll remember all my life a love that set me free_   
_Whatever comes of you and I, I will still believe_   
_That once upon a time a dream came true_   
_As long as I remember loving you._

 

The phone was ringing as they unlocked the front door and set their bags down in the hall.

"Who could that be on a Sunday night?" Skinner groused.

"Your mom, maybe? Go ahead - I'll get the bags." Mulder picked up the gym bags and carried them into the laundry room to sort out the items that needed to be washed, the leather that needed to be cleaned and oiled, and the personal items that needed to go upstairs.

"Thanks, babe," Skinner called after him then picked up the phone. "Skinner."

"Walter? Glad I was able to catch up with you - I tried to get hold of you before you left the Club."

Skinner straightened, suddenly concerned. "Something wrong, Geoff?"

Mulder came out of the laundry room, frowning as he heard Skinner’s words. "Is Sean okay?"

"We're fine, Walter. Actually, I'm calling about Mulder."

Skinner glanced over at Mulder, puzzled, and the younger man grinned. "I can take a hint. I'm going upstairs to take a shower."

"I'll be up in a little bit. Save some hot water for me."

Mulder grinned. "If you hurry, you can scrub my back. If not – ice water."

"Brat."

Mulder laughed and ran lightly up the stairs. Skinner waited till he was out of earshot, then turned back to the phone. "Okay, Geoff, you can talk freely now. Why are you calling about Mulder?"

"Sean and I talked and he told me what he did, giving Mulder that book. He didn’t mean to cause a problem, Walter – Sean didn’t realize what the repercussions would be."

"Mulder is okay, Geoff. And don’t be hard on Sean. No harm, no foul."

"I won’t punish Sean, but I can’t help but be concerned. I understand that Mulder pressured you to get into heavier games. So I guess the big question is are _you_ okay?"

Skinner sighed and sat down on the couch. "You mean did I over-react and come down on Fox like a ton of bricks? Yes."

"Walter, I think that you and I need to talk," Mason said firmly. "This nonsense has gone on for long enough."

"I don't want to talk about it, Geoff."

"And since when has that stopped me? This isn't just about _your_ wants, Walter Skinner. It’s about Mulder's wants and needs, too."

"Don't bring Mulder into this, Geoff. That's not fair."

"I never promised to play fair, did I?" His voice softened. "I'm worried about you, too, Walter. It’s been three years. It’s time to get past whatever happened. You need to talk, to work through this."

"Mason…"

"Do I have to make this an order, Piglet?"

Skinner sighed, conceding defeat. "No. Of course not. The next time I'm in the Club, I'll stop by your suite and we'll have a nice, long talk."

"You'd better. And Walter - don't make me come after you. I still have a collar with your name on it. And I’m not afraid to use it."

Despite himself, Skinner smiled. "I have no doubt about that, sir."

"Good. And there's something else you should never doubt - how much I care about you." Mason's voice was warm and tender. "You'll always be my boy."

His throat was suddenly tight. "Thank you, Master."

"Good night, Peaches. And don't wait too long, okay?"

"I promise."

Skinner sat for a long moment after hanging up the phone, staring off into space. For a moment, he had been back in a private world where he had no concerns, no worries except that of pleasing the man he served. And he was so tired of being responsible for everyone…

It was a gentle, damp nuzzling on his neck that brought him out of his thoughts and he smiled as he reached up with one hand to caress the wet head. "Hey," said a soft voice in his ear, "The water went cold while I waited for you."

"Sorry," Skinner said apologetically, turning his head to meet Mulder's lips in a brief kiss.

"'Sokay. Any thoughts worth a quarter?"

"A quarter?"

"Okay, make it a buck." Mulder came around the side of the couch and settled on Skinner's lap, removing the older man's glasses and setting them aside. Strong fingers began massaging Skinner’s temples, soothing away the slight frown on his face. "So what did the Boss Man want? Am I in trouble?"

Skinner opened his eyes and cocked his head. "Guilty conscience, babe?"

Mulder widened his eyes innocently. "Me? What have I got to be guilty about?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it? And I know how to get the answer."

He tilted Mulder sideways abruptly and tickled him mercilessly, fingers unerringly seeking out all the sensitive points on his lover’s body. Mulder wriggled and writhed under the attack, howling helpless under the knowledgeable fingers until he begged for mercy. Skinner stopped tickling with a satisfied smirk on his face but didn't let the other man up from where he had him pinned against the couch.

"You are such a shit, Walter," Mulder said between gasps for breath.

"Yeah - and you love me for it."

"You're deluded, too."

Skinner leaned over to nip at the sensitive place below Mulder's left ear. "You also love me for my devastating sexual prowess."

Mulder bit back a groan at the ripple of pleasure that rolled through him. "You must be thinking of one of my other lovers." He felt the other man's mouth move down his neck, nipping at Skinner's favorite place where his shoulder joined his neck, while skillful hands pulled his robe open and trailed down his body to caress the evidence of his growing interest. "God, Walter, don't you ever get enough? We spent half the weekend in bed."

"The weekend's not over yet." Skinner soothed the bite mark on Mulder's shoulder and sat up, releasing the other man. "But now that you mention it, I _am_ feeling a little hungry."

Mulder lay on the couch where Skinner had left him, breathing heavy and aroused. "Bastard."

Skinner laughed and went into the kitchen. His voice called back a moment later, "We're low on groceries. How do you feel about ordering in a pizza or Chinese?"

"How in hell can you think about food _now_?"

"Easy - I'm hungry."

"So am I," Mulder said with a frustrated growl. "And if you aren't back in here in five seconds doing something about it, someone is going to be sleeping on the couch tonight. And it won't be me for a change."

Skinner came back into the living room, amusement on his face. "You'd throw me out of my own bed?"

"Damn straight. Now get back over here and finish what you started."

Skinner laughed and returned to the couch, pulling the younger man up and into his arms. "Impatient brat. Why do I put up with you?"

"Advanced senility?" Mulder teased.

"Well, you could definitely make a man old before his time, babe." He kissed Mulder long and lovingly. "And I love every minute."

Mulder smiled crookedly at him. "Are you getting mushy on me, Walter?"

"Can't help it - advanced age activates those mushiness genes."

"That's not the only thing active in your jeans," Mulder said slyly, rubbing his hand against the bulge in Skinner's pants.

"Behave - at least until after I've had some sustenance. Then you can take me upstairs and ravage me."

"Mmmm." Mulder nuzzled Skinner's neck. "You feel pretty substantial to me already, but I guess I'll be merciful. If I get to order what I want on the pizza."

They settled down on the couch with pizza and beer, watching a baseball game in companionable silence. Mulder finished off his half of the pizza and then stretched out on the couch with his beer, idly watching the game. It wasn't an exciting one and his attention soon wandered to the man at the other end of the couch. Skinner had kicked off his shoes and his stocking feet were propped up on the coffee table. He had put his glasses back on to watch the game and his attention was focused on it. One hand was wrapped around his beer bottle and the other hand rubbed Mulder's foot in a soothing caress, and Mulder smiled as he realized that Skinner was totally unaware of what he was doing.

He felt strangely at peace, comfortable with himself and his lover and his life - and that was enough of an abnormality that he wanted to preserve the moment to recall later when things got bad - as they always seemed to where he was concerned. He absorbed little details of the scene - the slight beer sheen on Skinner's face, the reflection of dark eyes in the lenses, the precisely trimmed nails on the hand holding the beer bottle, the slightly rough texture of the finger pads circling on the skin at his ankles. The sound of the TV was a soft drone in the background and the soft breathing of the man beside him expanded to fill his ears and his mind. And then it was suddenly too quiet and he needed to hear the other man's voice, to know that he wasn't alone anymore.

"Walter."

Skinner turned his head at the urgency in the voice and caught sight of the need in the changeable eyes of the man he loved. He smiled and stood, holding out his hand, ready to provide whatever anchor Mulder needed in his life.

"Come on, Fox. Let's go to bed."

Mulder pulled Skinner into his arms, kissing him intently, and began peeling Skinner's clothes off as he tugged him upstairs. He recognized this mood in his lover, the other man’s need to assert himself as an equal partner in their relationship, and surrendered without hesitation. It fit his own mood, oddly enough, as he was ready to let someone else make all the decisions.

Mulder was a playful bed partner, enjoying a bit of mock wrestling, but at times like these he was a wildfire burning out of control. Skinner loved Mulder’s hungry mood, the way he scattered their clothing and tackled Skinner down onto the bed. His mouth was everywhere, pressing hot kisses along every inch of Skinner’s flesh. Every erogenous point was touched with hands or tongue or teeth and sometimes with all three. Skinner stopped trying to anticipate his next move and just let himself flow with the tide of passion that the other man stirred inside him.

Mulder paused to reach for the lube on the nightstand and watched Skinner roll onto his stomach. He didn’t know why the older man preferred this position but he had no complaints from this vantage point. The sight of his lover on his hands and knees with that well-defined ass spread vulnerably before him did something to both his ego and libido. Dropping the lube onto the bed beside him, he reached out for Skinner, raining kisses over the firm flesh as he moved towards his goal. Beneath him, he could feel the other man tense and gasp as his mouth descended on the sensitive pucker.

"Easy, big guy," he murmured soothingly, and he felt muscles relax under him. He let his tongue circle the opening, teasing and toying with his lover, before pushing inward. Skinner groaned, pressing back to seek more, and Mulder obliged by thrusting deeply with his tongue. With a free hand, he managed to squeeze out a little lube and eased a greased thumb into the opening, feeling the delighted shudders from his partner as he continued to tease with both tongue and thumb.

"More," Skinner gasped hoarsely, "God, Fox…more…please…"

Mulder worked his other thumb in and heard Skinner’s groan at the new fullness. For a moment he knelt looking down at his lover, at the way the other man’s most private part was spread open before him. All for him and no one else, and Mulder had to have the man this minute or die. With trembling hands, he quickly spread the lubricant over himself and slid into his waiting lover.

Skinner groaned slightly at the burning fullness but relaxed his muscles to allow entrance until he felt the solid weight of the younger man resting against his back. Hot kisses were pressed against his back, his neck, his scalp and he felt that he would go up in flames from the intensity of the worshipful attention he was receiving. A voice he barely recognized as his lover’s murmured endearments in his ear.

"Love you, too, Fox," he said, his own voice shaking. "But if you don’t move _now_ I’m going to kill you."

A shaky laugh and a nip on his earlobe were his reply. "You are so bossy. What does it take to make you let go?"

Skinner shivered slightly at that. No matter how many times he had let Mulder make love to him, Skinner had always remained subtly in charge. Now he surrendered, opening a part of himself that he had never let anyone see in years. "Do it," he said hoarsely. "Take me."

Mulder groaned at the sound of need and surrender in his lover’s voice and he began moving. Pulling almost completely out, he thrust back in quickly, rocking the other man forward on his knees. It wasn’t enough, though, not yet. He pulled out, ignoring the protesting groan of the other man, and rearranged the body under him. He pushed down on Skinner’s shoulders till they were nearly flat on the bed, angling his ass up higher, and thrust back in. Better, much better, and the older man was gasping and groaning under him as each thrust pushed deeper and deeper. Mulder grinned, enjoying the needy sounds his lover was making. He angled his next thrust slightly, surprising Skinner into a gasping shout, and felt the tightening of the muscles around his cock. Feeling his own impending climax, he thrust hard and fast into the tight heat, aware of the gasping moans that filled the room but uncertain whether they were coming from him or his lover. And then it didn’t matter because he was shouting, he was screaming his lover’s name, and his own name was echoing around the walls. Skinner’s body was shuddering under his, clenched so tightly around him that it was almost painful but it was a sweet pain and he didn’t want it to end even as he felt himself fall into blissful oblivion.

Mulder blinked his eyes open to find himself still sprawled across his lover’s back, still buried deeply. The other man wasn’t moving, and he shakily slid out so that he could fetch a cloth for cleanup. When he got back, Skinner was moving slightly, making groaning noises, and Mulder couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face.

"That’s twice," he said smugly as he cleaned up his lover’s body and the bed. "Twice I’ve put you out."

Skinner groaned and slowly flipped over onto his back. "As compared to how many times I’ve done the same to you?"

Mulder dismissed this as he tossed the washcloth into the hamper and climbed back into bed. "That doesn’t count. You’ve had a hell of a lot more experience than me. I’ve only been doing this for a year."

Skinner wanted to snort at that and cuff his lover’s head but his body felt like lead and his eyelids weighed a ton. "Cocky bastard," he murmured and rolled on his side.

Mulder laughed and settled down on the pillows, wrapping his arms around Skinner’s waist as he spooned up behind him. "Yeah," he said. "And that’s what you love about me."

"I knew it was something. Mystery solved," Skinner murmured, drifting into sleep.

Mulder laughed softly. "Asshole." He kissed the back of Skinner’s neck and closed his eyes, drifting into a contented sleep.

And woke in the early morning hours with a pounding pain in his temples, the crackle of fire in his ears, and the smell of smoke from his dreams.

* * *

Skinner stood in Mulder's office, looking around at the clutter with an amused smile. He had come looking for Mulder and, not finding him, had started idly poking about. It occurred to him that, no matter how often he had stood in this room, he had never really _looked_. The room spoke of Mulder, of his passions and his habit of turning order into organized chaos. The pictures on the wall, the clippings tacked up around the room, the obscure books and objects collected over the years - all of them were pieces of the puzzle that made up the man he loved. Even the untidy stacks of folders and papers and God-knows-what sorted into piles were so typically Mulder that he had to smile. He picked up one of the files at random, glancing in it, wondering what the story on this one was, and wondered how long it would be before a 304 showed up on his desk. That thought sobered him; it had been too close too many times lately. Every protective urge in him wanted to seal the younger man up in an unbreachable tower and pull up the drawbridge behind them, keeping his lover safe and alive and with him.

And he knew that Mulder would hate that. Mulder needed his freedom to pursue whatever demons and will-o’-the-wisps caught the attention of that brilliant mind. Not for the first time, he wondered what kept Mulder there at the FBI. He knew that Mulder could get a job in any number of think tanks or private foundations, places that wouldn't try to squash his independence. So what kept him there? And, more to the point, what would Skinner do if Mulder left?

Mulder noticed that the door to his office was ajar and cautiously entered, surprised to see Skinner standing by his desk with a file in his hands. He smiled; Skinner had been up and out early that morning, on his way to another AD level meeting, so their morning ritual had been reduced to a quick kiss as one went into the shower and the other out the door. Thinking of that, he wished that he dared go for another kiss, a real one, but it was almost certain that this office was bugged for audio if not video as well.

"Well, you know you're going somewhere in the Bureau when the Assistant Director tidies up your office for you." He saw an answering half-smile on Skinner's face. "What's up?"

"I was just - looking."

There was a peculiar look on the AD’s face, and Mulder slowly crossed the room to stand closer. "For anything special?"

Skinner shrugged, at a loss to explain. "I came down to ask you something - I guess I was nosing around, wondering about you. Your long-term plans."

Mulder was puzzled; Skinner was acting strange, not like his usual assured self, and Mulder wondered if something from the previous night had upset him. The older man had certainly seemed normal this morning. "My long-term plans? You've got them right there in your hands." He took the handful of files Skinner had in his hands and stuck them in an open file drawer.

Skinner knew that Mulder was trying to turn the subject but he was genuinely curious about this obsession in his lover's life. "What do you hope to find? I mean, in the end?"

Curiouser and curiouser, Mulder thought, wondering what was bothering the other man. "Whatever I hope to find is in here. Is that what you came to ask me?"

Skinner shook his head, pulling himself together, getting back to business. It was ridiculous to be worried about something that might never come to pass. "No. There's a case, a perfectly normal case involving the assassination of a Russian chess player…"

* * *

On the way home that evening, Mulder stopped by to check on Scully and Agent Diana Fowley. Following Mulder's revelation that the boy had sensed the assassin and moved out of the way so that the bullet struck the Russian player instead, Gibson Praise had been taken to a secure center for evaluation of his psychic abilities. Mulder had left Scully and Fowley with the boy while he tried to talk to the assassin and find out who wanted the boy dead. He had no answers - yet - but he had the feeling that they were onto something.

At the psych center, Mulder entered the observation room and found that Agent Fowley was alone. He didn't really want to be alone with her - there was too much old history between them for him to be comfortable with her - but he couldn't just walk out without talking. He introduced an innocuous subject - the boy - and she willingly followed his lead.

While Fowley told him about the test results, Mulder studied him through the one-way glass. "There's something else - something we're missing here."

Fowley shrugged, then smiled at him, a smile that he recognized and once had been flattered by. "That was a good catch on the videotape. I was impressed."

Mulder shrugged, dissembling. "You would have caught it eventually."

Fowley shook her head. "Spent too many years trying to get inside of too many armed terrorists. I'm out of practice with this stuff. But you seem to be at the top of your game."

"It’s all I do. It's all I've been doing for the last five years. It's been my life, such as it is." Until Walter, he thought to himself, and a warm glow flared inside.

Diana Fowley said, softly, "Sometimes I hear about you, about the work you're doing, and I think how it might have been like if I had stayed."

Mulder smiled. "We all would have been blown up by a terrorist bomb no doubt."

She smiled back. "Maybe. I've sensed that you could have used an ally, though. Someone who thinks like you, with some background."

"Scully's a good partner."

"She's not what I'd call an open mind on the subject."

Mulder laughed. "She's a scientist. She just makes me work for everything."

"Yes, but I'm sure that there were times when two like minds on a case would have been advantageous." She reached out and took his hand in hers, as if offering sympathy.

Mulder paused, momentarily distracted by something passing outside the door and hoped it was Scully. He knew where this was going and knew he had to stop it now. Even if he hadn’t been happily involved with Skinner, the last thing he was going to do was offer Diana Fowley another opportunity to step on his heart on the way to her goal, whatever the new one was. A rescue by his partner, a subtle interruption would have been better but, without one, he was on his own.

He looked at Agent Fowley squarely. "I've done okay without you."

There was a flicker of something in her eyes. It might have been pain or anger but whatever it was, it made him uncomfortable. He started to pull his hand away, but she held on for a moment longer.

"Hey. I'm on your side."

His phone rang and he retrieved his hand to answer it with relief. "Mulder."

A familiar, deep voice said, "Mulder, it's me."

Mulder smiled involuntarily and tried to repress the sudden warmth that filled him. He glanced at Fowley and moved away, towards the window. "Where are you?"

There was a pause on the other end. "I'm - on my way home. I was wondering when you'd be heading out yourself."

"I'm at the psych facility with the boy but I'm finished. Want me to pick something up?"

"No. No, that's all right. I'll cook something when I get home."

There was something odd in the other man's voice and Mulder was concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It's been a long day. Look, I'll talk to you when you get home."

"All right. I won't be long." Mulder disconnected and glanced over at Fowley. "Well, I think we're done here for tonight."

She looked at him with sharp eyes, eyes which held a bit of frost. "There's someone in your life, isn't there?" she said quietly.

"Yes."

"Your partner?"

"Scully? No, it's someone else."

"Serious?"

"Yes."

She drew a deep breath. "I see."

Mulder stood there helplessly for a moment, feeling somehow as if he should apologize. He cleared his throat, moving toward the door. "Well, good-night, Agent Fowley. See you tomorrow."

There was no reply.

* * *

Mulder arrived at the apartment a short time later, tired and hungry but keyed up with excitement. The boy, Gibson Praise, was incredibly gifted, the best that Mulder had ever seen. He could hardly wait for the results of the tests that Scully was running.

He found Skinner in the kitchen, finishing up a pasta dish, and slid his arms around the older man’s waist as he nuzzled his neck. "Mmm. Something smells good. And dinner smells good, too."

It failed to raise a smile on the other man’s face. Mulder wondered if whatever had been bothering Skinner earlier in the day was still affecting him. "Hey," he said in mock injury. "Don’t I even get a welcome-home kiss?"

"Dinner’s ready," Skinner said, sliding out of his arms as he went to the cabinet to pull out the strainer.

Mulder crossed his arms and studied the other man. "All right, Walter – what’s going on here? You’ve been acting strange all day – you and Scully both. Care to tell me what’s wrong?"

Skinner sighed. "Nothing's wrong. It's just - I stopped by the psych facility on my way home. I thought about taking you out to dinner."

The light began to dawn and he looked at Skinner with amused eyes. "And you saw Agent Fowley holding my hand."

Skinner cleared his throat, looking away. "Agent Fowley seemed interested in your theory earlier. Among other things."

"Ancient history, Walter. Very ancient."

"So you were an item?"

Mulder nodded. "Back when I started the X-Files - before you became AD, yeah. She left for a plum assignment in Europe."

"Left the X-Files - or you?"

"Both." Eyes studied the older man. "She's part of my past, Walter."

"Looks like she'd like to be part of your present and future."

"Why, Walter - I do believe you're jealous!"

"Jealous - me?"

"Yeah. You. The one whose jaw is so clenched that his dentist would have a fit." He took the strainer away from Skinner and moved into his arms, pressing soft kisses along that jawline. "Walter, you have nothing to worry about," he said sincerely. "I love you. The only thing that could make me leave you is if you wanted me to leave."

Skinner sighed. "She's young, she's pretty, she believes in the same stuff you do…"

"And where's the challenge in that?" Mulder teased. He kissed Skinner gently. "Walter, stop this. I don't know what's going on with you today, but just stop it. I'm not going anywhere. I know when I've got a good thing and I plan to hold onto it."

Skinner drew in a deep breath and released it, relaxing. "Okay." He looked at his lover sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"You should be." With a last kiss, Mulder pulled away and began carrying food out to the table. "Now you'd better eat while you have a chance because - after dinner - I intend to take you upstairs and prove just how much I love you."

Skinner grinned, his worries relieved, and turned back to finish draining the pasta.

* * *

Frohike grumbled as he headed towards the door where someone was urgently buzzing. So help me, Mulder, he thought in irritation, I'm going to kick your ass.

"Okay, hang on. I'm coming." He glanced at the monitor and was startled to see Agent Scully glaring up at it. Hastily, he began unlocking the door, swinging it open. He ushered Scully into the warehouse, noting that she had gotten really good at that Domme-glare bit - not that her original Look had needed much work.

"Sorry. You caught me getting ready for bed." He closed the door behind her and tried to smile suavely. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this late-night hour?"

"I need your help." She headed towards the main room.

"With what?" Langley asked, joining them, toothbrush in hand, followed by Byers as he hastily belted on a robe.

Scully set down a folder of data. "You've all heard of Gibson Praise, the chess wunderkind? These are a series of scans and neurological outputs of his brain processes. There seems to be some suspicion that he is a fraud. Apparently he wins by reading his opponents' minds."

"And you want us to do what?" Langley asked.

"Analyze the data with an eye towards the para-psychological."

"Oh-oh," Frohike said with a grin. "Taking a walk on the wild side?"

"But first." Scully turned to stare at all three of them. "I want you to tell me about Diana Fowley."

Uncomfortable looks all the way around, but Scully wasn't about to let them squirm out of this. She was determined to find out all about Agent Fowley - and what exactly her designs on one Fox Mulder were.

* * *

Mulder blinked open one eye as a disgustingly loud chirping noise filled the darkened bedroom. "Walter? Are you chirping?"

"That's your cell phone, idiot." Skinner buried his head under the pillow and tried to ignore the muffled muttering as Mulder groped on his nightstand for the phone.

Finally locating it, Mulder pushed the connect button and fell back on the pillow. He winced as muscles that had gone through a vigorous workout earlier complained. "Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me."

Scully's voice sounded excited and he refrained from glancing at the clock to see what time it was. He knew what time it was - too damn early in the morning - but he guessed that Scully was entitled after all the times he had woken her in the middle of the night.

"Scully, where are you?"

"I'm leaving the Gunmen's - I'm on my way to work."

"At this time of the morning?"

"I was hoping I could show you something - something about the boy."

Mulder groaned. "Why don't you come by here and show me?"

"I'd prefer to show you at work."

The excitement in her voice was infectious and he opened his eyes, sighing. "All right. I'll get dressed and meet you there as soon as I can."

He hung up and Skinner pulled the pillow off his face, looking at him. "What's wrong?"

Mulder shook his head. "I don't know. That was Scully. Evidently she and the Gunmen found - something. She wants me to meet her at the office."

Skinner sighed and sat up, reaching for his robe. "I'll make coffee while you shower."

Mulder leaned over and kissed him briefly. "See - that's why I love you. You make great coffee."

Skinner snorted and aimed a swat at his laughing lover as he headed for the shower.

* * *

Skinner looked over the group assembled in his office and leaned back in his chair, focusing his attention on Mulder. "Okay, tell me a story."

Mulder looked at Scully encouragingly and said, quietly, "Tell him exactly as you told me."

Scully bit her lip, hesitating, then took a deep breath. "I've conducted some tests on Gibson Praise and have come up with some rather unexpected conclusions." She proceeded to tell them about the tests she had run and their results, explaining how they revealed extraordinary activity in an area of the temporal mode of the brain, an area nicknamed the God module.

Skinner frowned. "So this kid is a human oddity - can someone explain why would anyone go to such lengths to kill him?"

Mulder leaned forward. "This kid could be the key - not just to all human potential but to all spiritual, unexplained, paranormal phenomena - everything in the X-Files."

Looks were exchanged around the room, and Skinner saw a couple smirks at the mention of the X-Files, Agent Spender in particular. He wondered what exactly Agent Spender had against Mulder - the younger agent seemed to have developed a personal grudge against Mulder since day one. At least he didn't appear to want to sleep with Mulder, unlike the woman sitting at the back of the room who had been staring at his favorite agent since they sat down. Agent Fowley spoke up now, pointing out the danger of going to the Attorney-General for immunity for the killer on this basis. Skinner tried to listen to her dispassionately and ignore the fact that she was making cow-eyes at the man that he loved. He noted that Scully seemed to have the same dislike for Agent Fowley that he was endeavoring to hide and that made him feel more cheerful - at least he wasn't the only one acting like a jealous idiot. He gave a passing thought to the idea of setting Scully after Fowley and decided that, despite the pleasure the idea gave him, it wouldn't be fair. Fowley wouldn't last a minute.

After hearing everyone out, Skinner asked everyone but Mulder to step out into the hall. Once they were alone, Skinner moved around the desk and sat down on the edge. He looked down at Mulder and drew a deep breath.

"She's right, you know," he said quietly. "The risk you are taking - the long term plans you and I talked about - "

Mulder looked at him, his heart and soul in his eyes. "If what Agent Scully's found is true - and I have every reason to believe that it is - then the answers I might have spent a life-time searching for may fall into place like a million puzzle pieces."

"You'd risk the X-Files?"

Mulder met his eyes firmly, no hint of hesitation or doubt. "How soon can you call the Attorney-General?"

* * *

Late that night, hours after that fateful decision, Mulder lay on the couch of his old apartment, silent and still, his eyes closed. Like a wounded animal, he had crawled into his old lair to lick his wounds and wait for the bad news to come. But not alone. Across the room, Scully sat at his desk finishing up some notes, efficient as always, silent in deference to his mood.

His mood.

In one day he had gone from almost delirious triumph, belief that everything that he had worked on for years was about to be validated, to the depths of despair. The boy who could have been the key to the X-Files, genetic proof of the Colonization plans, was gone. His old lover lay near death in a hospital somewhere. And his current lover was going toe-to-toe with the Justice Department over him, fighting like a tiger to protect Mulder and the X-Files, a fight that Mulder knew he was destined to lose. He also knew that Skinner wouldn't give up and might ruin himself in the process.

The phone rang and Scully answered it, talking quietly with the man on the other end. Skinner, Mulder thought vaguely, trying to gently break the bad news. And it sounded pretty bad from what he could hear on this end.

She hung up and, without opening his eyes, he asked, "Any news on Diana?"

Scully told him, quietly, and he took in the information on her condition without comment. He felt vaguely sorry for her, sorry for everyone who got caught up in Spooky Mulder's circle of bad luck. He wanted to tell Scully to get out, too, but it was too late. And as for Walter...

"What did Skinner have to say?"

"That there were talks going on right now about reassignment."

Mulder opened his eyes and looked over at Scully. "For whom?"

Her eyes met his directly. "Both of us. These talks included instructions from the Justice Department to close down the X-Files."

Mulder sighed, shaking his head. "This was all strategized, every move, I just couldn't see it. It was all part of a plan."

Gently, Scully said, "Mulder, whatever you may believe, this time they may have won."

Mulder closed his eyes, silently acknowledging that she might be right. And as he lay there, the phone began ringing again.

* * *

The odor of charred wood and paper hung thick in the air, nearly choking Skinner as he made his way down the hallway. Water dripped from surfaces forming puddles underfoot. And there, in the center of the devastation, a tall figure stood silently while the smaller one leaned against him, giving and asking for strength. He slowly made his way toward them, giving the partners their space to mourn in private.

She sensed or saw him first, straightening and murmuring something to her partner. He nodded, vaguely, as if not quite comprehending her words, and then she tugged at him, pulling his attention away from the devastated ruin of his professional work and private quest. His head turned, seeking, and Skinner made sure that he stood where Mulder could see him.

Slowly, Scully still at his side, Mulder made his way over to Skinner. "Sir?"

"The fire was localized to this area," Skinner said quietly. "All indications are that it was deliberate."

Mulder nodded absently. "We were close to - something. It frightened them."

Scully looked at Skinner directly. "What happens now, sir? To me and Mulder?"

Skinner sighed. "Hell if I know, Agent Scully." He drew himself up into full AD mode. "We'll settle all that in the morning. For now, this has been a shock and you both should go home, get some rest."

Scully nodded, meeting Skinner's eyes with a message in her eyes. "Sir, I gave Mulder a ride over here. I think - I'm going to a friend's for the night. Would you be able to give Mulder a ride home?"

Skinner nodded. "Of course. Good-night, Scully."

"'Night, sir." Scully squeezed the arm of her silent partner. "Mulder. I'll talk to you tomorrow." There was no reply from Mulder except for a nod.

"Mulder," Skinner said quietly and, when there was no reply, "Fox. Let's go home."

Mulder looked at him, dazed still. "Walter?"

In reply, Skinner folded him into his arms and just held him. And he prayed that he would be strong enough to support the younger man through the ordeals that lay before them all.


	35. Upping the Ante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner tries to keep Mulder together following the loss of the X-Files.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Safe Place from the Storm" by Michael Bolton.

_(Run to me)_   
_When those cold and troubled winds have found you_   
_(Come to me)_   
_And I'll wrap my world of love around you_   
_I'll be your flame burnin' bright_   
_Be the sunlight in your day_   
_That'll take you through the night, baby_

 

Walter Skinner stared at his reflection in the mirror as his fingers automatically went through the process of tying the subdued strip of silk around his neck. His thoughts were focused on the reflected image of the bed or, more precisely, on the covered lump in the middle of the bed. Ever since Skinner’s alarm went off that morning, the lump had been making a determined effort to ignore the world outside the covers.

Task completed, Skinner sat down on the bed and gently touched the lump. “Fox, are you going to join me for breakfast?”

“Not hungry.”

“You didn’t eat dinner last night and I know you won’t eat while I’m gone today. At least have some breakfast with me.”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

Skinner sighed. Mulder was hurting, badly, and Skinner’s heart ached for his lover. He wanted to do something to help but Mulder was making it even more difficult than usual. He had only been able to convince the younger man to come home with him last night instead of going back to his own apartment by physically putting Mulder into the car and ignoring his protests. Halfway home, Mulder had given up trying to argue with him and had gone silent, staring morosely out the window.

Once at the apartment, Mulder had allowed Skinner to strip and shower him to wash off the lingering smell of smoke with no more animation than a rag doll. Meekly, he had dressed in the t-shirt and boxers Skinner handed him and crawled into bed, turning onto his side and staring at the wall. He hadn’t moved when Skinner got into bed or responded to the older man’s quiet goodnight. On the other hand, he hadn’t pulled away when Skinner spooned up behind him and draped an arm around his waist. Skinner took comfort in that thought.

“All right. I know you didn’t get much sleep last night so why don’t you try to get back to sleep. I'm sure that Scully will be coming over later this morning and I’ll ask her to make sure you eat something.”

Mulder pulled the covers off his head and said sarcastically, “Do that, Walter. And make sure that she knows to give me milk and cookies after my nap.”

“Fox – “

“I _don’t_ need a babysitter, Walter! I don’t need Scully’s company!”

Skinner resisted an impulse somewhere between coddling and throttling his lover and said, coolly, “No, but Scully needs yours. She’s been through just as much as you have and she only has you to turn to for support.”

Mulder had been ready to argue with Skinner but at this he closed his mouth and looked stricken. Skinner felt guilty for playing on Mulder’s own deep-seated guilt feelings but he ruthlessly told himself it was better than having Mulder sulking in bed.

"She didn't go home alone, did she?" Mulder asked anxiously.

"No. She said she was going to a friend's."

Mulder was already reaching for his cell-phone and he frowned. "She should have gone to her mom's. Or come here.  Dammit, Walter - I should have - hello?" He stared at the phone for a moment. "Who's this? Where's Scully?"

"Dana Scully is in bed, asleep," said a crisp voice on the other end. "Good morning, Mulder - or is it too early in the day for social pleasantries?"

Mulder blanched. "Oh, no, sir! Sorry, sir. Um - good morning, sir."

Skinner raised his eyebrow as he heard Mulder's stammering and guessed that it was Mason on the other end of the phone.

"Would you like me to wake Dana so that you may speak to her, or would you prefer to wait till a more reasonable hour?"

"Don't wake her, sir," Mulder said hastily. "Just - if you wouldn't mind - would you tell her that I called?"

"Of course, Mulder. I'll make sure that she returns your call. Are you at Walter's?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Mulder disconnected and collapsed on the bed. "Shit - I hope he was already awake. If I woke him, I'm moving to a far away country without extradition. No, that probably wouldn't work either. I’m sure he knows people. I'll just kill myself."

Skinner chuckled softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing his hand on Mulder's thigh. "That's a little extreme, isn't it?"

Mulder turned his head to meet Skinner's eyes. "He scares the shit out of me," he said frankly. "He's so - so _quiet_ and intense."

Skinner nodded. "He can be. And he can also be gentle and kind. He's devoted to Sean, and he was good to me during a rough part of my life." Mulder frowned against a surge of jealousy, and Skinner reached over to caress his cheek. "Don't, Fox," he said softly.

"I'm fine," Mulder said shortly, getting up from the bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

Skinner sighed as the door shut firmly behind Mulder then picked up the cell-phone and redialed Scully's number. An exasperated voice answered on the other end. "Mulder, she's _still_ not awake. I promise to - "

"Geoff, it's Walter."

Mason's voice broke off in mid-sentence. "Walter - are you okay? What the hell happened? Dana showed up last night looking as if she'd lost her best friend."

"Everything _but_ that." Skinner sighed. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"As much as you need. Sean and I are eating breakfast. Well, I'm eating. Sean is drinking one of those disgusting protein mixes of his." Skinner heard a bark of laughter in the background. "And Dana _is_ still asleep."

"I can't tell you everything, but what I _can_ tell you is that a high-profile case that they were on blew up. One agent was shot and is in critical condition, a suspect for murder was found dead in his jail-cell, and a person in protective custody has disappeared. The lead agent on the case is blaming Mulder. On top of it, there was a fire in their office late last night. Everything they've been working for over the past six years, plus all the historical files, has been destroyed."

Mason swore softly. "How's Mulder holding up?"

"Not well. He's - well, he's devastated, as you can imagine. And he's putting on his smart-ass, don't-touch-me attitude, the one he uses to push people away when he's hurting. I'm afraid to leave him at home alone - I don't think he'll be here when I get back - but I've got to go into the office to try to sort out this mess. They're both on administrative leave so I can't even keep him under my eye at the office. Frankly, Geoff, I'm at a loss."

Mason was silent for a moment. "I'll take care of it, Walter. You do what you need to do today and I'll make sure that your boy is okay."

"Geoff?" Skinner asked, suspiciously. "What are you up to?"

Mason chuckled. "Never you mind, Peaches. I won’t hurt a hair on his head - or any other part of his body. Put him on the phone."

Mulder came out of the bathroom, still toweling his hair, and Skinner silently held out the phone to him. Mulder's face lit up and he took the phone. "Scully?" His face fell almost comically as he heard the voice on the other end of the phone. "Sir?"

"Breakfast, Mulder. One hour - and don't be late."

Mulder stared at the phone blankly for a minute then threw it down on the bed. "Shit! One hour - I'll never make it!"

Skinner watched with amusement overlying his concern for his lover as the younger man threw himself into clothes. Mulder caught the look on the older man's face as he sat on the bed to quickly lace up his sneakers and glared at him.

"All right, what did you say to him?"

"The truth," Skinner said frankly. "I learned long ago not to lie to Geoff." He sat down next to Mulder again and put his hand on his lover's thigh again. "I told him what happened - what I could tell him - and that I was worried about you."

Mulder dropped his head and drew in a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm being a real asshole, aren't I?"

Skinner pulled him up into a hug, relieved that Mulder was at least talking. "Nothing to apologize for- you've had a rough couple of days." He kissed his lover gently. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I don't know," Mulder said quietly. He wanted to give into the comfort of the arms around him for just a moment but was afraid that once he let go he would crumble into a pile of ash. He sighed and pushed gently at Skinner. “I’ve got to go. He specifically said not to be late.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” Skinner offered, knowing that Mulder’s car was still at his own apartment.

“But what about your breakfast?”

“I’ll grab something at the office.” He reached out again and touched Mulder’s cheek. “Fox. Let me help.”

He half-expected Mulder to reject his offer and was ridiculously relieved when Mulder nodded. “Good. I’ll grab my briefcase and we’re out of here.”

Mulder was quiet on the drive over to the Club, staring silently out the window, but when Skinner pulled up in front of the Club, he leaned over to kiss Skinner. “Thanks, Walter.”

“Anytime, babe,” Skinner said softly. “Why don’t you see if you can talk Scully into coming back with you tonight? I’ll pick up something on the way home and we three can have a nice, cozy evening.”

Mulder nodded. “All right. See you back home tonight.”

He hopped out and hurried up the stairs to the Club. Skinner watched until he disappeared inside, then carefully pulled into traffic and headed towards the office. He expected to spend most of the day in meetings, going over the botched case and the aftermath of the fire, but at the moment he didn’t care. Home, Mulder had said, and he smiled at that thought.

* * *

Sean looked at Mason reproachfully as the Dom turned off Scully's cell-phone and set it down on the dining table. "That wasn’t very nice, Geoff. Mulder will be having a heart attack."

"Better than letting him sit at Walter's and brood."

Sean looked at him soberly. "What happened?"

Mason's eyes met Sean's. "The end of their world."

A sleepy voice came from the bedroom doorway. "Was that my phone?"

Sean jumped up from the table to fetch a cup of coffee for her, saying, "Yes, it was Mulder. If Geoff hasn't scared him to death, he'll be here shortly for breakfast."

Mason studied his junior critically as she sat down at the table with a sigh. He had been surprised when Scully had arrived on his doorstep late the previous evening, looking exhausted and smelling of smoke. She had wavered in the doorway, looking more uncertain than he had ever seen her. "I - I know you weren't expecting me, but I - didn't want to go home and I couldn't think of where else to go."

Her face was stoically calm but there was a devastated look in her eyes that made Mason draw her into his arms, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"You came to the right place," he had said gently, drawing her inside the suite. Sean had fussed over her, drawing a bubble bath and teasing her with his nonsense until some of the haunted look had left her face. She had obediently swallowed the toddy Mason fixed for her, put on the pajamas Sean loaned her, and had fallen into a dreamless sleep snuggled between them.

This morning, Scully looked better in a sense - more rested and relaxed, but there was still that look in her eyes that hurt him to see. He glanced at Sean, exchanging thoughts with a look, and the younger man immediately launched into frivolous mode.

"Well, I must say that you look better in those P.J.s then they ever looked on me."

Scully looked down at the blue pajamas and smiled. "Somehow, Sean, I didn't expect these. Satin pajamas? What's next – designer cotton briefs?"

"Not on your life - only silk or satin next to this subbie's skin - when I wear anything at all. They feel deliciously decadent next to a freshly warmed bottom. Speaking of which, Geoff…" and Sean pouted prettily at the Dom.

"You're a flirt and a slut, brat," Mason said indulgently.

Sean blew a kiss to Mason. "You say the sweetest things."

Scully chuckled and let herself relax. It was such a relief to be able to let go of everything, to let go of the burdens she carried. Mason's quiet nurturing and Sean's subtle strength soothed her without making her feel as if they viewed her as weak or needing protection. "I guess it's lucky we're the same size."

"Lucky? Hardly - I think Geoff's stuck in a rut on short redheads."

"I don't know about that," Mason said. "Put you two together with Walter and it averages out."

"Oh, you can put me together with the Mountain anytime," Sean said with a playful swoon.

"Don't mind him," Mason said tranquilly to Scully. "Sean's been drooling over Walter since he first saw him years ago."

Sean fanned himself. "Well, who _wouldn't_? All that muscle and that beautiful scalp…"

"Careful, brat; you're going to make me jealous."

Sean grinned and crawled into Mason's lap, kissing him affectionately. "Yeah, you're really worried about that, aren't you, love? Besides, Mulder would shoot me if he caught me making eyes at his man. Not that he has anything to worry about either. Walter's so hot for him that they set off the alarms."

"Guys, that's my partner and my boss you're talking about," Scully complained.

Sean snorted. "And you're going to tell me that you've never pictured the two of them in bed together?"

" _Some_ of us can keep our minds out of the gutter."

"And _some_ of us have a lot more fun _in_ the gutter."

"Children," Mason said with mock sternness. "Stop bickering or I'll put you both over my knee."

Sean grinned. "Promises, promises." There was a knock on the door and he sighed, getting up to go answer it. "There's Mulder. Guess we'll have to postpone the games till later."

Mulder stood outside the door, breathing a little heavily. "Am I late? Please tell me I'm not. And if I am, have Scully shoot me now."

"Come in, my boy," Mason called. "You're right on time. Sean - a cup of coffee for Mulder, please."

"Yes, O Lord and Master," Sean said, bowing Mulder in with a flourish.

Mulder, meanwhile, had seen Scully sitting at the table and crossed to her, dropping to a knee beside her. "You okay, Scully? I'm sorry about last night - I shouldn't have left you alone."

Scully smiled and touched his shoulder affectionately. "I'm all right, Mulder, really. You had other things on your mind, and Sean and Mace looked after me." She studied his face intently. "Are you okay, Mulder?"

He drew a deep breath, shrugging. "I'll manage. Walter is fussing, of course." He glanced at Mason out of the corner of his eye, a little wary of saying anything in front of the other man.

Mason smiled. "Relax, Mulder. I don't bite."

"Yes, he does," Sean purred, settling back on Mason's lap. "But they are very nice bites."

"Behave, brat. You're frightening the boy."

Sean looked over at Mulder appraisingly. "Mulder's not frightened. He knows that we're just teasing."

"Sit, Mulder," Mason said gently. "You're among friends. If it makes you feel any better, I promised Walter I wouldn't damage you."

Mulder smiled at that. "What a relief." He sat down at the table and wrapped his hands around the mug, staring into it unseeingly. Mason exchanged another speaking look with Sean, and the younger man pushed himself off Mason's lap.

"Come on, girlfriend," he said to Scully. "If I know the boss-man, he's got plans for the day so you'd better catch a shower while you can. I've got some sweats you can borrow."

Scully glanced at Mulder and then at Mason and reluctantly got up. "All right, but they better be silk or something equally extravagant - you've spoiled me for anything else."

Once the bedroom door closed behind them, Mason sat back in his chair and studied the silent young man. "It's coffee, Mulder. You drink it," he said helpfully.

Mulder seemed to come out of a daze and looked at him, puzzled, then back down at the cup. He flushed and picked it up, taking a sip. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"Would you relax, Mulder? And you don't have to say 'sir' with every third word." He reached out a hand to tousle Mulder's hair. "We must have gotten off to a bad start if you're that scared of me."

Mulder flushed. "No, s-" He caught himself and smiled ruefully at the Dom, trying to relax. "Well, you _are_ pretty intimidating. And you taught Walter - which is pretty amazing to me. I mean, he seems to be the ultimate Dom to me, and the idea that someone else topped him seems unbelievable."

Mason tilted his head to one side. "How are things going with Walter?"

"Fine - couldn't be better."

"Mulder." This voice held an unmistakable warning, and Mulder stiffened again. "Don't lie to me. Walter can tell you from personal experience that I don't tolerate lying."

Mulder swallowed hard. "He - said something like that earlier today." He looked at the Dom with a combination of fascination and dread. "What did you do to him?"

Mason sat back in his chair, amused. "A Dom's training is confidential, Mulder. I won't give you any details about Walter's or Dana's training. However, Sean can testify that I have only one response to lying, having tasted my strap a time or two himself."

"You _whipped_ Walter?" Mulder asked incredulously and Mason realized with amused resignation that any hope of appearing more approachable was lost. So he was a little surprised when, after a moment of quiet reflection, Mulder seemed to relax and look at him in a way that was almost shyly confidential. "Do you think that's why he's so opposed to playing those kind of games with me?"

Mason shook his head, smiling. "You mean he resents my beating his ass and is self-righteously determined not to repeat my errors?" he asked in amusement. "I doubt it. Walter never resented anything I did to him in training - he didn't particularly like it, but he accepted. I think this particular situation has more to do with you and with his previous relationships."

Mulder nodded. "Krycek. And I know you can't tell me what happened."

"No, even if I knew what happened - which I don't." Mason watched Mulder drink a little more coffee. "Mulder, Walter mentioned that you had a difficult childhood. That may concern him more than anything else." The younger man was silent, not looking at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course," Mason said gently. "You always have choices." He reached across the table, taking Mulder's chin in his hand and tilting his head up so that their eyes met. "Mulder, just remember that I'm here if you need me. Don't ever be afraid to come talk to me." He smiled. "I promise not to bite you."

Mulder managed a smile back. "Thank you, sir."

"And now," Mason said, releasing the younger man and standing up, "I'd better get the children out here before they start plotting something behind my back." He raised his voice. "Sean, you can stop listening at the door and come back in."

The bedroom door opened and Sean came in, looking reproachfully at Mason. "I wasn't listening at the door." Scully rolled her eyes at that and he gave her a mock-glare, "Well, I wouldn't call it _listening_ when I couldn't hear a word."

"You are a naughty brat but we have guests so I suppose I'll have to forgive you."

Sean chuckled and wrapped his arms around the taller man. "You always do." He pouted up at his master and added, "Although it wasn't very nice of Dana to rat me out."

"Lip in, brat, and stop teasing her. One day I'll turn her loose on you and _then_ you'll be sorry."

"Yes, Master Geoffrey," Sean said meekly, looking up at him through his lashes, then sideways towards Scully in amusement.

Scully met his look blandly but one corner of her mouth curved upward. "Don't worry, Mace. If Mulder hasn't driven me crazy in six years, Sean hasn't got a chance."

"Scully!"

Mason sighed dramatically. "I must have been out of my mind to think about taking on all three of you." The three exchanged amused looks. "Since I have no hope of maintaining any order, we're going to indulge ourselves today. First, Jean-Pierre's exquisite brunch in the dining room, then some mild exercise to work it off, followed by a nice massage and soak in the hot tub. Sound good?"

Smiles all around assured him that it met with universal approval and, for a time, the world outside was forgotten.

* * *

Skinner entered the apartment to the sound of soft laughter, softer music, and the crackling of a cheery fire. He felt a smile curve tired lips and the exhaustion of the day dropped off him; he sighed contentedly and detoured into the kitchen to set down the packages in his hands. Loosening his tie, he continued into the living room, smiling at the sight before his eyes. Scully sat cross-legged in the armchair laughing at something Mulder had said, while the young man lay sprawled on the floor peering at something intently. He watched in amusement as Mulder lined up a sunflower-seed shot into a paper-cup goal and burst out laughing at Mulder's victory cheer when he made it.

Mulder looked up, grinning. "Walter! When did you get home?"

Skinner continued into the living room, dropping his jacket and tie on the back of the couch. "A few minutes ago. And need I remind you who will be doing the vacuuming if you get those damned things all over the floor?"

Mulder made a face, scooping the remaining seeds into the cup before getting up. "Aye, Cap'n Bligh. And I'll be sure to scrub the poop deck, too." Force of habit made him walk over to the older man, intending to give him a hug and a kiss, and then he remembered their audience and stopped, flushing. Skinner shot a quick glance over at Scully and shoved his hands into his pockets before he could reach out to touch Mulder.

Scully gave an exaggerated sigh. "Would you two go ahead and kiss already? At this point you're hardly going to shock me - I've been watching Sean carry on for months. And I’m feeling a little insulted that you can't act naturally around me."

"Sorry, Scully," Mulder said, apologetically, then looked at Skinner. "Well, big guy? Should we act natural?" Skinner smiled and pulled Mulder into his arms, kissing him thoroughly. When he recovered his breath, he looked over at his partner from within the shelter of his lover's arms. "Well? Better?"

Scully tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "On a scale of one to ten, I'd give it about a six point five."

"What are you, the Russian judge? That was at least an eight."

"No way, Mulder. It lacked sizzle - you were both too self-conscious. Besides which, Walter looks like he's about to fall down with exhaustion."

Mulder looked at Skinner in concern. "She's right. Why don't you go up, take a shower, and get comfortable while Scully and I take care of dinner. Smells like you brought home Italian."

Skinner nodded absently, the thought of a hot shower like a siren call to his brain. "It'll need to be warmed up, and there's some wine - "

"I know," Mulder said, pushing him towards the stairs. "Go - I've got it covered."

Skinner stood under the shower for a long time, feeling most of the frustration of the day drop away. Not all of it, and God only knew how he was going to tell the two people downstairs what lay in store for them, but he had done the best he could. It could have been worse, much worse. He drew a deep breath, pushing back those thoughts as he turned off the water. Monday, he thought, in the office. Not here.

He dried off, dressed in sweats, and went back downstairs to find that the pair had set out a casual feast around the fire. A bottle of wine stood open and, as Mulder picked it up to pour him a glass, Skinner realized it was one of the bottles they had brought back from Greece. His throat tightened a little at that as the memory of sunny beaches and carefree laughter echoed in his mind and, as Mulder handed him the glass, he could see that his lover was remembering it as well.

"A toast," Mulder said softly. "Here's to us, to all of us. No matter what happens, we'll be together."

"To us," Skinner echoed.

"To us," Scully said, lifting her glass. "And, as my father would say, confusion to our enemies."

"Speaking of which - " Mulder began, looking over at Skinner.

Skinner frowned and shook his head slightly saying, sharper than he had intended, "Not now, Mulder. We'll talk about that Monday, in the office. Not here."

To his surprise, Mulder silently acquiesced and pushed Skinner towards one end of the couch. "Sit. I've got a plate all ready for you. I expect you didn't eat lunch - and this after nagging me about it this morning."

Skinner acknowledged the hit with a rueful smile. "And did you?"

"Are you kidding? With Mason watching me like a hawk? I think he counted every bite I took so that he could give you a full report," Mulder teased, settling on the floor beside Skinner. Skinner exchanged a questioning look with Scully, got the silent answer that Mulder had eaten a decent enough meal, and then reached down to tug at a lock of hair.

"Ow! What are you trying to do, Walter? Is this hair-envy?"

"No, just trying to tell you to get up and sit on the couch with me - that floor's got to be uncomfortable."

Mulder grumbled but got up, settling at the other end of the couch, and Skinner decided that he had been over-reacting. These occasional incidences of sub-like behavior at home were probably nothing - maybe even his over-sensitivity on the issue. He had decided when they became lovers in real life that it would be as equals here and he was determined to keep things that way.

Rather to his surprise, the three of them managed to ignore if not forget the uncertainty of the future. The partners laughed and teased each other, making Skinner chuckle with their comments. Mulder admitted that what he had been doing when Skinner arrived home was showing Scully how he amused himself while assigned to wiretaps. Skinner contributed a funny story from an early stakeout he had been involved in where the team had gotten so involved in their distractions that they forgot about the suspect and nearly lost him. The bottle was soon empty and Mulder opened another, silencing Scully's protests by firmly telling her that she was sleeping in their guest room that night.

Scully laughed at that and said, teasingly, "But Mulder, I want to get some _sleep_ tonight. Without any - disturbances."

Mulder drew himself up to his full sitting height, looking haughtily down his nose at her. "And what are you insinuating, Partner? Are you saying that either Walter or myself are noisy sleepers? That we snore?"

"I think she's referring to the fact that you're noisy in bed," Skinner said, amused at the by-play.

"Walter! What have you been telling my partner?"

"Nothing. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out, Mulder. Speaking of which," Skinner set down his wine glass and gripped Mulder's arm, pulling the younger man towards him. "We have a low score to redeem."

"Walter, you're drunk," Mulder accused him, laughing, but allowing Skinner to pull him onto his lap.

"Nope, just a little relaxed." He wrapped his arms around the younger man. "All right, Mulder - close your eyes and prepare to be boarded."

Mulder laughed. "You are such an asshole." Anything else he might have said was swallowed by the mouth that descended on his, thoroughly ravishing his mouth and laying claim to every inch of him, body and soul. Rational thought disappeared and all he could do was cling to the other man, returning the intoxicating kisses until he was breathless and shaking with need.

Skinner slowly released his mouth, smiling down into the face of his lover as the younger man clutched for sanity. "Well, Scully? Was that better?" he asked, glancing over at the open-mouthed agent curled up again in his armchair.

Scully shut her mouth and swallowed. "I think - " She cleared her throat. "I would have to rate that a perfect ten. And now, I think I'm going to bed."

"Good idea. I expect that we'll be doing the same."

A slight gasp of breath answered that, and Scully determinedly moved out of the chair. "Good night, s- Walter. 'Night, Mulder. Sleep well - um - pleasant dreams."

As Scully fled up the stairs, Mulder said reproachfully, "That wasn't nice, Walter. You embarrassed her."

"I don't think she's embarrassed. Turned on, maybe."

"Oh, thanks, Walter, that's just what I need - the knowledge that my partner is turned on by watching me and my lover kissing."

"Then don't think about it," Skinner said, his voice low and hypnotic. "Think about me. About us. About what I intend to do to you in that bed upstairs."

Mulder had started breathing hard, his eyes nearly black with desire. "She'll hear - "

"Didn't we go through this at Christmas with my mom?" Skinner nuzzled Mulder's neck, playful nips becoming demanding. "Scully's okay with this, Mulder, or she would have insisted on taking a cab home."

The logic of that penetrated Mulder's brain and he tilted his head back to allow Skinner more access. "In that case, what are we doing down here and dressed? Why aren't we upstairs and naked?"

Skinner chuckled, pushing Mulder off his lap so he could stand up. "As always, Mulder, you ask the pertinent questions." And with that, he led his lover upstairs and shut the bedroom door behind them.

* * *

Monday morning, and Skinner stood at his windows staring unseeingly out over the buildings and grass and trees outside. His thoughts were centered on the past weekend: the surprise they found Saturday when they stumbled out of bed mid-morning to find the living room restored to its normal order and no sign of their guest - but two score sheets attached to their dining chairs that made Mulder burst out laughing even as he protested Skinner getting higher marks than he did. Skinner had thought it was completely fair, citing the way he had made Mulder scream like a banshee before resting his case and leaving the field victorious. And Sunday, spent idly reading the paper and relaxing with each other, unconcerned with anything outside their door.

Now the pair was entering his office, shutting the door behind them, and he drew a deep breath as he turned away from the window. "Agents, if you'll please take a seat."

They did so in silence then Mulder said, bluntly, "How bad is it, sir?"

"It's not good, but it could have been worse." Skinner looked down at the file before him, then up at each of them. "They wanted to split you up. OPR wanted you both cited. Quantico wanted Agent Scully assigned to them on a permanent basis, and VCU wanted you back on their team."

Mulder drew in a deep breath. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but the thought of returning to profiling filled him with dread. "You said 'wanted' - are you implying that they didn't get what they wanted, sir?"

Skinner steepled his fingers, looking at the two intently. "I managed to convince then that, for the present, you were much more effective as a team. You won't be split up - and neither of you will have a permanent slot in any department. You'll be pulling desks in the Bullpen and assigned to whatever teams that I decide - on a temporary basis. Your upcoming assignments may be in any department under my command - fraud, homicide, domestic terrorism - anything." Inscrutable eyes studied them across the desk. "Get used to it, Agents. It will probably be this way for a long time."

"Options, sir?" Scully asked evenly.

"Only two. Request a transfer to another location, such as a field office, or resign." Skinner paused and drew in a deep breath. "I don't think I need to tell you that is exactly what They are hoping you'll do."

"What about the X-Files, sir?"

Skinner sighed deeply. "There _are_ no X-Files, Mulder. That department is to remain closed. The fire has been labeled as a possible arson but no further action will be taken to determine the cause." He ignored Mulder's snort at that. "The files have been destroyed or heavily damaged."

"They might be recoverable - "

"Mulder," Skinner said gently, removing his glasses and looking across the desk at the younger man. "Let it go for now. Spender didn't come out of this unscathed, either - he earned an official reprimand for his poor handling of the case, his failure to use the resources available to him, and for losing both the boy and the suspect. I'm afraid that he's not taking it well - he's blaming you for everything. Spender is making a lot of noise right now, stirring up a lot of bad feelings." At the rude noise that Mulder made, he said, "No matter what you think about him, personally, he's a fellow agent and he has a friend or friends with enormous influence. Walk carefully, Mulder, keep your head down, and just _wait_. Something will happen."

"Is there anything else, sir?" Scully asked quietly.

"That'll be all for now, Agents. Kim has your desk assignments - take your time getting settled in. There are a couple of things in the works right now - I'll let you know your new assignments tomorrow."

Skinner sat behind the desk for a long time after they left, his eyes fixed unseeingly on the work in front of him. The meeting had gone better than he had expected, but he had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

* * *

"Fucking son of a bitch!" Mulder swore as he slammed the apartment door closed behind him. "Can you believe what that asshole did, Walter? I can't believe that he had the nerve to try and pull that after he screwed everything up and we pulled his ass out of the fire! If Scully hadn't double-checked that autopsy, he would have arrested the wrong suspect and the Agency would have been facing major legal action. And does he thank us? No, he does not. Does he mention anyone put himself in the press conference, even the other agents on the team besides Scully and me? No he does not. That asshole is riding for a fall, and I hope I'm there to see it."

"Calm down," Skinner said tranquilly from the kitchen. It had been almost three weeks since the fire and he had been expecting an explosion from the younger man before now. And, he admitted, it was justified in this case. He hadn’t wanted to assign Mulder and Scully to this one but the agent in charge had been out of his depth and there had been one murder too many. "It's over. You helped catch the right man. And Colton's been an asshole for a long, long time."

Mulder sighed, tugging off his tie and dropping it on the coffee table where it was joined by his suit jacket. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he grumbled. He flopped down on the couch with a sigh, looking up when Skinner handed him a glass of tea. “Thanks. You’re too good to me.”

“Just as long as you know that.”

Mulder chuckled and drained the glass. “I’m going to go upstairs and change, and when I come back down I’ll try to be in a better mood.”

“Do that,” Skinner said with a smile, “and I’ll have something special for you.”

Mulder grinned and loosely wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist. “Does it involve you, a carton of chocolate frosting, and a spatula?”

Skinner snorted. “I never knew that you fantasized about me and kitchen utensils. Are there more kinky perversions that I should be aware of?”

Mulder waggled his eyebrows and smirked. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Ah, but I have ways of extracting information from you.”

“Planning to tie me up and tickle me again, O Lord and Master?”

Skinner frowned. “Don’t call me that, Mulder. I’m not your master – and we don’t play those kinds of games here.”

Mulder raised an eyebrow. “Feeling a little testy today, Walter? I was just joking.” He slipped out of Skinner’s arms, picking up his discarded tie. “I’ll go on upstairs and get out of your hair for awhile.”

Before Skinner could say anything else, Mulder had disappeared and the older man was left wondering again if something was going on with Mulder or if he was being oversensitive. Deciding it was the latter, he went back into the kitchen to finish dinner – and check the cabinets for chocolate frosting.

* * *

Skinner entered the apartment and tossed his keys on the hall table, relieved that another week was over. He had seen Mulder’s car downstairs; the younger man usually got home before he did these days and had been mysteriously hinting at a birthday surprise for the past two days. And tomorrow Anne Skinner would arrive to celebrate his birthday and spend a week with them.

The apartment was oddly quiet and he frowned. “Fox? I know you’re home – where are you? And, more importantly, what are you up to?”

“In here.” The voice came from the darkened living room and sounded strange. He moved towards the living room quickly, wondering if Mulder was ill, and stopped on the threshold in stunned surprise.

Mulder was kneeling on the floor, naked, his body shimmering with oil. A golden collar encircled his neck with shackles around each wrist and ankle, and slender golden chains ran from the shackles to the collar. It was an erotic picture, and Skinner felt a wave of lust flow over him followed almost immediately by anger.

“What in hell are you doing?”

Mulder’s head jerked up in surprise before he recovered and dropped back into the submissive posture. “A present in honor of your birthday tomorrow, Master. I am your humble and obedient slave.”

“Get up,” Skinner snarled. “Go upstairs and take that stuff off.”

Mulder looked up, dropping the persona completely. “But Walter – “

“I said _now_ , Mulder!”

Mulder’s face tightened and he stomped up the stairs, slamming the bedroom door shut behind him. Skinner found himself shaking in reaction and sank into a chair, covering his face with his hands. Now that the first shock was over, he was appalled at the way he had over-reacted. The younger man had obviously thought this would please him and hadn’t meant to upset him – and how could he explain to his lover when he could hardly explain it to himself? How could he make Mulder understand his intoxicating need to control and how afraid he was that he would destroy the younger man if he gave into it? And how Mulder would come to hate him for it. He already exerted too much control over Mulder’s life, in the office and at the Club; the other man needed a place where he could be himself, as exasperating as he could be at times. A place where he could even, when he wanted, control Skinner and gain back some of his own power.

Skinner sighed and stood up. No matter how hard this was going to be to explain, he had to do it. And he owed the man an apology.

Skinner went upstairs and found Mulder lying on his back on the bed, dressed in a sweat suit. He leaned against the doorway, his hands in his pockets and said, quietly, "Well, I could have handled that situation worse - but not by much. I’m sorry. And we need to talk."

Eyes that were cold and gray met his. "So talk."

Skinner frowned, his guilt overset by a sudden wave of anger. "I don't know what all that was about - what you tried to do, acting the slave and all the rest of this submissive crap, but I want it to stop. I'm not going to play Master here and you're not going to play Pet. Do you understand me?"

"Of course," Mulder said with a shrug. "It’s your house, your rules."

Skinner straightened, not knowing whether to be more stunned by the words or the acceptance in Mulder's tone of voice. "I - how could you think that I want it - want you like that? This isn't just my place - I want it to be yours as well."

Mulder snorted. "Right. That’s why you _told_ me how it is going to be here instead of asking what _I_ want. That's why you bitch about the seeds and the bathroom sink and the dishes and -"

Skinner shook his head, sitting on the bed. "Mulder, that happens in _any_ long-term relationship. From time to time we'll get on each other's nerves. I'll try to ease up but if I do something that drives you crazy, tell me, for God's Sake, and I'll try to change it!"

Mulder sat up and frowned, looking puzzled. "You'd do that?"

"Of course. Hell, I expect you to stand toe-to-toe with me and tell me where to get off if I do something stupid."

There was a peculiar look on Mulder's face. "You do?"

"Of course," Skinner said with rough affection. "I love you, idiot. Fox Mulder, who is brilliant, stubborn, infuriating, and incredibly sexy. Fox, not Kitten." He reached out to touch Mulder's cheek tenderly. "Not that I don't love Kitten and wouldn’t love to see him wearing those chains, but he belongs in the Club and you belong here."

Mulder buried his face against his lover's shoulder. "I thought - hell, Walter, I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with. I thought maybe if I was that way here you wouldn’t get tired of me."

Skinner hugged him tightly. "I’ll never get tired of you. So, did I ruin your evening?"

There was more that Mulder wanted to talk about. Sometimes lately he felt so overwhelmed that he just wanted someone to wrap their arms around him, to make the decisions for him. But it was clear that Skinner wanted to put the subject behind them and expected him to stand on his own, so he pushed back the demons that gibbered at the back of his mind.

He smiled at Skinner as he returned the hug. "Well, we can move on to part two."

"And that would be?"

Mulder turned his head and nuzzled Skinner's neck, "Well, I thought we could get naked and you could nail me to the mattress."

Skinner chuckled. "You have such a way with words."

"You want it prettier? I can do that." Mulder straddled Skinner’s lap and his mouth teased Skinner's earlobe. "I thought you could remove my clothing, quickly, because you love to see me stretched out naked and hungry for you. Then you could stand there at the end of the bed, just out of my reach, and remove your own clothing. Slowly, watching me the whole time to see me watching you." His teeth moved along Skinner's jaw in teasing little nips. "You see what you do to me, see me getting harder with every piece of clothing you remove. By the time you're naked, I'm so hard and you can see I'm so close to coming that a touch will send me over the edge. You put your knees on the bed, crawling slowly toward me, your eyes pinning me to the bed."

Skinner groaned, closing his eyes as the images flowed over him. Mulder pushed Skinner onto his back as he continued talking. "I can't move, can hardly breathe, and I want you so badly that I can almost taste it. You run your fingers up my body, lightly, barely there, just a whisper of touch.”

Skinner felt as if his brain was on fire, melting under the intensity of the picture being painted in his head. He shifted on the bed, trying to open his pants to get some relief for his aching cock, but Mulder’s hands caught his and held them down on the bed.

“I try to get closer, to get more pressure from your hand but you pull away. Your hands then press down on my hips, holding me to the bed, and with one sudden move, you take me in so deep that I come in your mouth, screaming your name so loud that they can hear me two blocks away."

Mulder breathed over Skinner’s still-clothed crotch, not touching it. Skinner gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily in his release, then groaned and collapsed on the bed.

When he managed to pry his eyes open, Mulder was reclined on the bed next to him, grinning. "Was it good for you?"

Skinner groaned. "Brat. I haven't come in my pants since I was a teen." He reached up to pull Mulder closer, kissing him languidly. "I guess you proved that you have a way with words. But what about your plan to have me nail you to the mattress?"

"Plenty of time for that, too."

"You obviously have me confused with a much younger man."

Mulder grinned. "Another challenge? You don’t think that I can get you up and raring to go again?"

"I don't think I can take another challenge so I'll just take your word for it." He sat up, making a slight grimace. "I need to clean up. Care to share a shower?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Mulder rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom to start the water. In the doorway, he paused and looked back at Skinner mischievously. "Walter, if this is my home, too, does that mean I can leave wet towels on the floor?"

Skinner snorted. "What do _you_ think?"

Mulder laughed but Skinner caught a flicker of something in his eyes that might have troubled him if it had remained. “You are so anal.”

Skinner smiled as he shed his clothes and tossed them into the hamper. “And that’s what you love best about me.”

Mulder laughed derisively. “Dream on, big guy.”

Skinner joined him in the shower. “What – are you about to crush all my illusions? I don’t think my delicate ego can stand that.”

“Right. I didn’t think big, studly ex-Marines were allowed to have anything delicate.”

“You’d be surprised,” Skinner said, pulling the other man into his arms so that he could nuzzle the warm, wet skin.

“I’d much rather be fucked.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you have a one-track mind?” Skinner picked up the soap and began washing his lover, paying particular attention to the half-erect cock that hardened even more in his hand.

Mulder groaned and let his eyes slide shut, enjoying the slow stroking. “I haven’t noticed you complaining. And I can think of more than one thing – just not when I’m horny.”

Skinner chuckled and pulled the younger man close again, his hand sliding around to tease Mulder as a soapy finger stroked up and down the younger man’s cleft. “You want something, babe?”

Mulder groaned and bucked against the finger tormenting him. “Shit – this is payback for earlier, isn’t it?”

“Got it in one.” He circled the anus lightly, enjoying the shivers that ran through the man in his arms. Nipping gently at Mulder’s neck, he murmured in a low, seductive tone, “You’d do anything to have me fuck you right now. Your body is aching for me to slide this finger into you.”

Mulder groaned and turned his face against the wet chest, kissing it. “Yes, God, yes.”

Skinner pushed a soap-slick finger inside, relishing the feel of the muscle clasping him in a tight embrace. He heard his lover groan and felt Mulder rock slightly, trying to force the finger deeper. “I love feeling you like this, knowing that part of my body is deep inside you.” He slid his finger in and out, pleasuring his lover. “Your body is flushed, trembling against me, while my finger fucks you.”

“More – please, more.”

Skinner slid another finger inside and heard the moan of pleasure. “You like that, don’t you?” Mulder nodded wordlessly, clinging to his lover’s shoulders. “You are such a sweet slut. You love having your ass full, being fucked within an inch of your life.” He slid another finger inside. “Three fingers, babe, and this ass feels hungry for more. Are you hungry for me, Fox?” Mulder nodded again, his whole body vibrating with his urgent need. “I think that the next time we’re at the Club I’m going to spend hours playing with your butt. I’m going to start with the smallest plug and move up to the fattest, longest one I can find. I’m going to watch it moving in and out of your ass, watch you writhe on the bed and listen to your moaning pleas to let you come. And maybe, if you are very good, I’ll let you come. Or maybe I’ll strap a plug deep inside you and make you work out like that. Can you imagine how that would feel while running on the track? Or swimming – your skimpy suit barely concealing the evidence.”

Mulder was nearly whining now, trying to rub himself against his lover’s body, but Skinner held him still, his fingers moving faster, “Such a greedy ass, demanding more. Someday I’ll fist you. Can you picture that, babe – my whole hand inside this sweet ass of yours?” His fingers deliberately brushed over the gland inside and Mulder jerked against him. He did it again, murmuring in Mulder’s ear, “Come for me, babe. Do it.”

Overwhelmed by sensation, Mulder bucked against Skinner’s body and the slight friction against his cock was enough to send him over the edge. He cried out as he came, his body slamming up against the sturdy form of his lover, his hands clinging to the only stable mass in a sea of passion.

When he came back to himself, he found that he was cradled against a warm, furry chest while gentle hands stroked his back with soothing motions. Skinner had turned off the water and was just holding him, softly kissing his hair. Mulder took a deep, shaky breath and reluctantly opened his eyes.

“Damn,” he said in a hoarse voice that he hardly recognized as his own. “You did it to me again.”

Skinner chuckled softly. “It’s a gift.”

“Well, whoever gave you that gift should be high on your thank-you list – as well as mine.” Mulder sighed contentedly. “Walter?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to go to sleep.”

“Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in the bed?”

“Mmm. I’d move if I still had bones. Mine are mush.”

Skinner chuckled and swung Mulder up into his arms, carrying him into the bedroom and setting him down on the bed. He fetched a towel and ran it over the damp body, already half-asleep, then tossed it toward the hamper. It landed on the floor in front of it and he hesitated for a moment, then smiled and got into bed, wrapping his arms around his sleepy lover. Mulder murmured something indistinct that may have been “love you”, and Skinner smiled. Yes, definitely worth a few mildewed towels and damp carpet.


	36. Dangerous Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder breaks a promise and endangers his life and their relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "One Week" by Ed Robertson, performed by BareNaked Ladies

_It’s been one week since you looked at me_ _  
Cocked your head to one side and said, "I’m angry."_ _  
Five days since you laughed at me saying_  
_"Get that together, come back and see me."_  
_Three days since the living room_ _  
I realized it’s all my fault but couldn’t tell you_ _  
Yesterday you’d forgiven me_   
_But it’ll still be two days till I say I’m sorry._

 

Skinner entered his apartment and set down his suitcase in the hallway with a relieved sigh. He had spent a long week out on the West Coast checking into the LA office, days full of budget meeting and planning sessions. His evenings had been lonely and he had only been able to speak to Mulder once during that time since the younger man had been gone himself on and assignment. He frowned to himself as he loosened his tie - Mulder had sounded strange over the phone and Skinner suspected that he hadn't been sleeping or eating right during Skinner's absence. The agent's team had wrapped up their case two days earlier so he knew that Mulder was back in town. Skinner had also managed to wrap up his meetings a day early and had caught an earlier flight, eager to be back home.

"Fox?" he called out, listening for a reply.

There was no answer and he figured that his lover must be out jogging or in the shower. He had seen Mulder’s car in the parking garage so he knew that the younger man was around somewhere. Although Mulder still had his own apartment, he spent most of his time at Skinner’s even when the AD was out of town. Skinner suspected that the younger man curled up with Skinner’s pillows to help him get whatever sleep he could manage.

He sighed as he went into the kitchen to pull out a beer - the past month since they had had their little "discussion" had not been easy for either of them. Tensions had been obvious under the surface although Mulder refused to talk about whatever was twisting him up in knots and giving him bad dreams again. Skinner thought it was the cases he was on - no matter what his fellow agents thought about him personally, there was no denying his ability to observe crime scenes and extrapolate answers so the younger man was in high demand. Too high, with little time to recover before the next case.

With their conflicting schedules, they hadn't been able to spend any weekends at the Club since the fire and Skinner wondered if Mulder might not benefit from a visit. His lover could probably use an opportunity to unwind - and Mason was still waiting for Skinner to come by to talk to him. Skinner had the feeling that if he put it off much longer, the Dom would forcibly drag him in for their little chat - by his ear.

He smiled to himself at that thought and tossed the empty beer bottle into the trash. He decided to surprise Mulder when he returned from his jog – he’d shower and change into casual clothes, then order Mulder's favorite take-out. He picked up his suitcase and headed upstairs.

Entering the bedroom, Skinner caught one look at his lover sprawled naked and unconscious on the bed and his heart seemed to stop. Mulder’s body was glistening with sweat and the evidence of his orgasm but for once the sight did not arouse Skinner. He dropped his suitcase and rushed over to the bed, quickly removing the belt fastened around Mulder's neck, desperately checking for a pulse. The world spun a little dizzily before Skinner's eyes as he realized that the younger man was breathing with his pulse fast but steady, and the older man sank down onto the bed, shaking. For one agonizingly long minute he had thought that Mulder was dead. Then anger rushed in to fill the void left by waning terror and he grimly thought that Mulder would wish he were dead when Skinner got through with him.

Mulder swam up out the dark, feeling a delicious lethargy from his intense climax. It had been a long time since he had come that hard and, although it didn’t completely fill the emptiness in his soul, it pushed back the howling demons a little bit. He stretched, groaning a little, and idly stroked his now-flaccid cock.

"So you’re alive after all."

Mulder’s eyes popped open at that familiar voice and he saw Skinner standing over the bed, a grim expression on his face. Mulder felt all the blood drain out of his face. _Oh,_ _shit_ , he thought wretchedly. _Of all the times for Skinner to come back early._

Skinner flung the belt down on the bed next to him. "Get cleaned up and get dressed. We need to talk. I’ll be in the living room."

* * *

Skinner was standing on the balcony, a glass of tea in his hand, when Mulder came into the living room, his hair still damp from his shower. He saw Mulder glance at the glass in surprise and tightened his lips.

"I thought alcohol wasn’t a good idea right now."

Mulder nodded and cleared his throat. "Um – you’re home early."

"Surprise." Skinner’s voice was ironic. "Mulder, was it my mistake or did we have an agreement on this subject? Did you or did you not promise me that you wouldn’t play with these kinds of games?"

Mulder stiffened at the AD tone in his lover’s voice. "You know that I did."

"And were you unclear on just what exactly I meant by that?"

Mulder gritted his teeth together. Skinner could sound like a nasty SOB when he got in this mood. "No, I was clear about what you meant."

"Then what the hell do you think you were doing?" Skinner demanded angrily. "Can you imagine how I felt – what I thought – when I walked in the bedroom and saw you lying there with that belt around your neck? Christ, Mulder – I thought you were dead!"

"I’m sorry, Walter – "

"Like that’s supposed to make it right? Dammit, Mulder – how often have you done this?"

"This was the first time – "

"Don’t give me that crap, Mulder!"

Mulder flared up angrily. "I’m not! I’m telling you the truth, but if you’re not going to believe me why the hell should I even bother!"

"How can I believe you when you gave me your word – your _word_ , Mulder – and then turned around and did it anyway?"

"What happened to trust, Walter? Huh?"

"I _did_ trust you, Mulder."

Mulder knew that he was in the wrong but Skinner’s tone of voice tore through the thin wall that had been holding him up since his world had gone up in fire. All the tensions from the past six weeks, all the needs that he had suppressed for the past month boiled to the surface and, in that moment, he hated the man standing across the room.

"Did you, Walter? It seems to me that you _don't_ \- and probably never have."

Skinner glowered at him. "What in hell does that mean?"

"All the rules are yours - why is that? Don't you trust me to make any of the choices in our relationship? Don't my needs matter at all?"

"Choices, Mulder - like the one you made tonight?" Skinner demanded. "Why in hell should I let you make choices when you do stupid things like that?"

" _Let_ me?" Mulder's voice rose in indignation. "Oh, thank you very much, Walter. I appreciate you taking such good care of me since I'm such a fuck-up. What's next - going to send me to my room without supper?"

"I'm _not_ your father, Mulder!"

Suddenly unable to breathe in the stifling atmosphere surrounding him, Mulder knew he had to get out.

"No, you're not my father," Mulder said distinctly as he picked up his jacket from where he had left it on the back of the couch. "My father never _pretended_ to love me." He slammed out of the apartment.

Skinner heard the slam reverberate through the apartment, sounding like a death knell. He was left standing in his living room wondering where everything had gone so terribly wrong.

* * *

Mulder slammed the door to his apartment and threw himself down on his couch. Damn it, who did Skinner think that he was? Just because they were lovers, did that give him the right to dictate Mulder’s life? To control everything that concerned the two of them without consulting Mulder? He was an adult male; he had the right to make his own decisions. Even if they were stupid ones.

He pushed back that last thought, angrily flicking through the TV channels. He paused on the game but then changed to another channel. If he were home, he and Walter would be watching the game together, sharing a pizza, taking opposing teams and arguing companionably over calls. Since when, he thought to himself in irritation, did I consider Walter’s place ‘home’?

He picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number but only got Scully’s answering machine. "Hey, Scully, it’s me. I’m at my apartment. Give me a call when you get in."

He hung up and walked into the kitchen, idly looking through the cabinets and fridge which were forlornly bare. Not surprising, really, since he was hardly ever here anymore, but it meant that he’d have to go grocery shopping. That brought back the memory of the past weekend, when he and Skinner had gone shopping and hard argued companionably over their definitions of “fresh vegetables”. Mulder’s insistence that frozen French fries that had not reached their expiration date qualified as a fresh vegetable had cracked the older man up and Mulder grinned at the recollection of the normally impassive AD collapsed over a grocery cart laughing.

The smile faded from his face and searing pain cut through his heart. It was suddenly difficult to see, not to mention breathe. He barely made it into the bathroom in time to lose what little he had managed to eat that day. When the retching finally stopped, he shakily cleaned up and staggered back into the living room. Abandoning the thought of food, he curled up on the couch on his side, his arms wrapped around his belly, and tried to sleep.

* * *

“Hey, partner.”

Mulder looked up briefly as Scully entered the bullpen and set her attaché case down on her desk. “Hi.”

“You’re here early.”

He could feel her eyes appraising him and knew that he looked like hell. He had hardly slept the night before and had been unable to face his own eyes in the mirror to do more than a cursory wash and shave. The fact that his best suits and most of his personal effects were still at Skinner's had not helped. He had toyed with the idea of calling in sick but that would have meant spending a day staring at the walls in his apartment and he didn't think he could take that. A tentative inquiry with Kim, Skinner's assistant, had netted the information that the AD had decided to take the day off to catch up on personal business. Mulder didn't know whether to be glad that he wouldn't have to see the other man in the office today or not.

“Feel like grabbing a cup of coffee before another day of excitement?” Scully asked.

“Sure,” he said listlessly. He knew his partner wouldn’t rest until they had talked and it would be better to do that somewhere other than the bullpen. He slipped on his suit jacket and followed her down the road to their favorite coffee shop. Once they were seated in the booth with their coffee and pastry, he looked over at her and was surprised to see that Scully wasn’t looking her best that morning, either.

“Scully, what happened to you? You look like hell – and I tried to call you last night but just got your machine.”

“I was at the hospital most of the night,” she said with a quiet sigh.

Memories of Scully lying in her hospital bed, thin and wasted with the cancer, flared in his mind and he reached out to grasp her hand. “Scully – are you all right?”

She covered his hand with her free hand and smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine, Mulder. I was just there to keep Mace company. Sean was admitted last night.”

“Sean? Why didn’t you call me? Is he all right? Where was he admitted?” Mulder started to get up, but Scully held onto his hand.

“It’s okay, Mulder. It was a reaction to the cocktail they have him on, nothing life-threatening. He’s at home now, resting.” She sighed and released his hand, picking up her coffee-cup. “His case is so frustrating. There’s such a fine balance between the various medications, and it seems that they just get his regime stabilized when his body develops a reaction to one and they have to try something else.”

Mulder looked at her soberly. “How serious is it?”

“Well, his T-cell count is stable and since Mace keeps a sharp eye on his eating habits and medication, he’s in good shape.”

“But?”

“But," Scully looked down into her coffee cup. "It’s been three years, almost four. Ten years is about the average the doctors give before developing full-blown AIDS, which also depends on the infected person not contracting any serious illness to further weaken the system. And that's only an average - some people progress to full AIDS quickly while some others develop symptomatic infections before AIDS kicks in.”

"So you're saying that, although he's okay right now, it could change at any time?"

Scully didn't reply to his question, which had been rhetorical in any case. Instead, she said, "Have you ever seen the two of them together?"

Mulder looked at her blankly. "Who?"

"Sean and Mace."

"Of course I have - dozens of times."

"Sometimes I just like to watch them," she said quietly. "The way they look at each other, the little excuses they make for touching, the way Sean teases him and Mace pretends to be stern but there's this little adoring smile on his face that would be sappy on anyone else." She closed her eyes. "Sometimes I catch Mace watching Sean as if he thought the other man might disappear at any moment, and the look in his eyes just tears me apart."

"Scully - "

She pulled herself together and smiled at him. "You think that you and Walter will be that inseparable four years from now?"

"Um - "

Scully frowned, studying him closely, then sighed. "Okay, what did you and Walter fight about?"

Mulder's head jerked up and he stared at her. "What makes you think that we had a fight?"

"You look like you haven't slept - and not because you were busy doing other things. You left a message on my machine saying you were calling from your apartment. The same apartment which has dust an inch thick because you’re never there."

"What, I can’t stay in my own apartment from time to time without it causing a national emergency?"

"Mulder."

"Okay, okay. We had a fight. I left."

"Which means that you were wrong but didn’t want to admit it. Don’t bother arguing with me, Mulder – we’ve been partners for six years and I know how you fight. So what was the fight about?"

Mulder stared into his empty coffee cup. "I’d rather not say."

"That means it was about sex. You didn’t do something stupid like have an affair while Skinner was out of town, did you?"

"Jesus, Scully – "

"Okay, so if it wasn’t that it was something else stupid you did."

Mulder bristled. "Why are you assuming that I’m the one that did something stupid? Maybe Walter had an affair while he was out of town – or blew up over something that was really not such a big deal – or – "

"Skinner? Have an affair? Mulder, the man is so in love with you that he would slit his own throat first. You can’t possibly be _that_ clueless."

Mulder swallowed hard, guilt flooding him. "No. I know that."

"So what happened, Mulder?" she asked gently.

He sat back in the booth, loosening his tie, and closed his eyes. "I did something stupid, Scully. I promised him that I wouldn’t do something and then I did it anyway and he caught me."

"So did you apologize or just try to bluff your way out of it as usual?"

"Geez, Scully, you know me too well."

"How bad is the damage? I can’t imagine anything you could do that would make Skinner stop loving you – unless it _was_ an affair."

"No. It’s just – "

"You have to admit to him that you were wrong." Suddenly she saw the marks around his neck that his open collar revealed. "Jesus, Mulder, you didn’t try that strangulation thing, did you?"

He frowned at that. "And how in the hell would you know about that?"

"Bruckman - I was in the car, too, remember? I’m not totally clueless, and if that’s what he’s mad about then I don’t blame him! Mulder – what were you thinking?"

"Scully – "

"I swear, Mulder, some days I would just like to take a piece out of your hide."

"Stand in line, Scully," Mulder said dryly.

Scully paused and flushed slightly. "Oh. Like that, is it?"

"Yep. So I’m not exactly anxious to return to face the music."

"Does he usually – " Scully paused, trying to figure out a delicate way to ask her question.

"Beat the hell out of me? No. We don’t play games in real life."

"Then why do you think that he’s going to do that now?"

"Because he told me he would," Mulder said frankly, "when I first mentioned this to him months ago. He was very adamantly against it."

Scully studied him intently. "So is that why you did it?"

"What?" Mulder stared at her, flabbergasted.

"Come on, Mulder. You’ve been getting laid regularly for months now, you’ve said that the sex is great, you have the Club for the kinkier stuff and a safe guide through it. He was only out of town a week – you can’t have been that hard up. So the only logical conclusion is that you did this on purpose, hoping to get caught."

"I couldn’t have known that he’d come home early."

"You would have found out some way to let him know. You have some dandy bruises on your throat." Mulder touched his throat, appalled to realize that Scully was right. "Mulder, you’re the one with the psych degree but even I can see that you were hoping to get caught. What _you_ have to figure out is why. And I’m not the one you need to be having this conversation with. Go to him, Mulder. Don’t blow the best thing you’ve ever had."

Mulder swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. "It's not that easy, Scully. It's more than that. I have - I need - shit! This is so hard to talk about with you."

Scully put her hand over his. "I might understand more than you think, Mulder."

He drew a deep breath. "Okay. You know that Walter and I play D/s games. Last November, I asked him to play deeper, to get into more of the erotic pain."

"Is that when he vetoed edge-play?"

"Yeah. Things were going well until - Benett." Even now he found it hard to say that name. "After that - when we went back - Walter backed off a lot."

"I can't blame him for that. You'd been through a traumatic experience."

"I know, but the thing is that he makes all the decisions. I've asked him for - some things, and he's refused to even discuss it."

"Well, Mulder, he _is_ the Dom and it's his duty to keep you safe."

"I'm not talking about edge play, Scully. I'm talking about - about some of the things that - that Sean does with Mason."

Mulder flushed as he spoke and Scully found herself fighting a blush as well, thinking with a mental sigh that over the past months she had learned more about her partner's sex life than she was really comfortable knowing. "Do you think you can talk about it with Mace or Sean?"

"Yeah, I suppose - but Mason scares me to death," he admitted. "And I'd sort of feel like I was betraying Walter. Getting him into trouble in some way."

"Mulder, if you need help, you really should talk to someone about it. I don't think you're comfortable talking about this with me, and I must admit it makes me feel funny, too. But I'm sure that Mason would be willing to listen and help."

Mulder nodded, recalling how gentle the older Dom had been the day following the fire. "I guess."

"But first, I think you need to talk with Walter. Let go of your pride for a minute and admit that you were wrong, that you did something stupid. He'll forgive you, Mulder. He loves you very much."

Mulder sighed and wished he felt as certain of that as Scully did.

* * *

Mulder knocked on the apartment door and Skinner opened the door, staring at Mulder in surprise. "Hi."

Mulder managed a wan smile. "Hi. Can I come in?" Skinner held the door open wider and he entered, shoving his hands into his pockets so he wouldn't reach out and grab the other man. "I talked to Scully. She told me I’ve been a total idiot."

"Incisive as always." Skinner shut the door behind Mulder and turned to study the younger man, his arms crossed over his chest, his face inscrutable. Mulder found himself wishing he could take off the glasses to really look into his lover's eyes.

"She’s right. I – Walter, I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do."

"Yes, it was," Skinner said shortly, turning and walking into the living room. He had been unprepared to see Mulder tonight and the sight of the younger man looking so defenseless and open nearly destroyed Skinner's resolve to stand firm on this situation. He had to move away from Mulder before he took his lover in his arms and kissed away all that terrifying vulnerability.

Mulder followed Skinner, watching the older man sit down in his favorite chair, almost ignoring Mulder. He fought down the irritation that rose inside him, deciding that their rocky relationship didn't need any more ammunition. "And what I said before I left - I didn’t mean that."

"I hope not, Mulder," Skinner said gruffly. "That was a hell of a cruel thing to say."

"Yeah." Mulder scuffed his toe in the carpet. "So - can you forgive me?"

"You have to ask?" Skinner looked over at Mulder, resignation on his face. "I love you, babe. I’ll always forgive you. Even when I want to chew your ass out for being an idiot." He looked down at his hands, tightly clenched together. "Do you know how close you came? If I hadn’t come home - What could possibly be worth it, Fox? Is there something I’m not doing for you?"

Mulder felt so guilty for the strain in the other man's voice that he lied without a second thought. "Shit, Walter, it’s not your fault. It’s me. I’m such a screwed-up mess – I don’t know how you put up with me."

"Don’t talk like that," Skinner said sharply. "You are _not_ a screwed-up mess."

"Come off it, Walter – even Scully thinks so and she’s my best friend."

"I have a slightly different perspective than Scully." Skinner looked over at Mulder and, for the first time that evening, his face was softened as he looked at his lover. "You’re a decent, worthwhile human being and if I have to tell you that a hundred times a day I will."

Mulder sighed and shook his head. "This is what I do, Walter. I deliberately screw up my relationships. I make people leave me."

"Bull." Mulder looked up in surprise at the sharp tone in Skinner’s voice. "We’ve been through that before and you know that nothing you do would make me leave you. I may be pissed, but I’m here for the duration." He studied Mulder’s bent head and said quietly, "Fox. Talk to me. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"I did it on purpose," Mulder said baldly. "I knew that you would catch me – although I didn’t expect you to walk in on me like that. I knew you’d see the marks around my neck and you’d know what I’d done."

Skinner sat back, stunned. "But why? You knew I would be angry with you."

Mulder drew another deep breath. "Yes. I wanted - needed you to take control. I wanted to be - punished."

Skinner’s eyes were unreadable behind his glasses. "I dislike being manipulated and I’m not going to play ‘Daddy’ games with you." His voice was harsh and Mulder flinched. "I've told you that on more than one occasion."

Irritation swept through Mulder. "Yeah, I know. You've _told_ me that several times. We never talk about it, Walter. We never discuss what I want or need, only what you are comfortable with. We went through all this shit last month - "

"And you agreed - "

"And I gave in." He tentatively sat down on the couch and looked down at his hands. " I didn't mean for it to happen like this but I was desperate."

Skinner frowned. "Desperate? For what?"

"I don't know," Mulder said in frustration. "If I knew that, maybe I could do something about it. I only know that I feel - pulled apart. I don't know who I am anymore. I need - something more."

"What? To be beaten for your sins?" Skinner said angrily. "I've been down that road before and I'm not going there again."

Mulder growled as he got up, pacing over to the fireplace. "I am so god-damned sick of hearing that! I don't care what the hell happened between you and that ratbastard, but I am so tired of that being your excuse for not even doing me the courtesy of _talking_ about what I want or need!"

"Mulder - " Skinner said warningly, feeling his temper rise dangerously. He felt like he was standing in quicksand, all his control slipping away from under his feet. In another moment he would pull that infuriating man into his arms, would kiss him into silence and fuck him insensible. Would give him the pain that Mulder's soul seemed to be begging for, even at the cost of his own soul.

"Don't say 'Mulder' in that tone of voice!" Mulder shouted, turning on Skinner. "You say it like you're going to go all Dom on me but I know that's an empty threat. We're not in the Club here, right? And we're not in the office. So, since you've got everything all nicely separated, that doesn't give you many options here, does it? What are you going to do - make me sleep on the couch? Kick me out?"

"Yes." Skinner clenched his hands together, the pain of his nails cutting into his hands grounding him. The dark hunger for control was growing within him, consuming him, and he had to get the other man out of his sight before he gave in to Mulder's onslaught. "I think you had better leave."

Skinner's voice was like ice and the sharpness of it cut through to Mulder's soul. Mulder stared at the older man for a long moment, anger bleeding out of him through the wound. He felt his old mask settle down, felt his face go cold to match the frost closing in around his heart.

"I see. I'll just get my things then and be out of your way."

Skinner just nodded, not looking at him, and Mulder felt his throat tighten. He wanted to throw himself on his knees before the older man, to beg him not to send him away. He turned and ran up the stairs to the bedroom before his pride crumbled completely, before he made the other man lose any respect he had left for him. Quickly, he tossed his clothes into the suitcase he had left there, tucked in his shaving kit, and closed it. He paused and took a last look around at the room where he had once felt so safe and loved, then hurried out before he broke down completely.

Skinner was still sitting in his chair, looking down at his hands, as Mulder paused awkwardly in the doorway. "I - um - I don't have any boxes for the books and things. You can - you can just box them up and send them to my apartment."

Skinner didn't reply and suddenly Mulder couldn't bear it a moment longer. He turned and headed towards the door, stopping in the hallway to pull out his key to the apartment and quietly set it on the hall table. He looked back towards the living room one last time, let his eyes drink in the image of the man sitting there so that he would have the memory to keep him company during the dark nights to come.

"Don't feel too badly, Walter," he said softly. "You did the best you could, put up with me for longer than most people would have. I - I'll always be grateful for that, for what we had together while it lasted." He hesitated, then unfastened his gold bracelet and set it down next to the key. "Good-bye, sir."

Skinner sat motionless in his chair long after he had heard the door close quietly behind the younger man, tears slipping silently down his face, and even the warmth of the fire crackling before him could not banish the ice that filled his soul.


	37. Separate Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner try to deal with the aftermath of Mulder’s actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Separate Lives" performed by Phil Collins and Marilyn Martin

_You have no right to ask me how I feel_ _  
You have no right to speak to me so kind._ _  
I can't go on just holding onto ties_ _  
Now that we're living separate lives._ _  
Well, I held on to let you go_ _  
And if you lost your love for me,  
Well, you never let it show. _ _  
There was no way to compromise_ _  
So now we're living separate lives.  
  
_ _Oo, so typical, love leads to isolation.  
_ _So you build that wall, yes, you build that wall  
_ _And you make it stronger._ _  
Well, you have no right to ask me how I feel  
_ _You have no right to speak to me so kind.  
_ _Some day I might find myself looking in your eyes  
_ _But for now, we'll go on living separate lives_

 

Mulder sat nursing his drink, trying to ignore the people chatting at the tables around him. He wasn’t sure why he had ended up here at the Club, except that he had to get out of his apartment and his car seemed to automatically drive itself here. Now he wondered if this had been a worse mistake than staying home and staring at his walls. At least there he hadn't had to endure the additional pain of seeing happy couples all around him .

“Mr. Mulder! It is so good to see you, m'petite – it has been such a long time!”

Mulder looked up and managed a smile for Jean-Pierre. “Hello, Master Jean. Yeah, it’s been awhile.”

He could feel the Senior Dom’s eyes flick over his face and down at the table. “You are alone tonight, yes? Or perhaps you are waiting for – “

“No, I’m alone,” Mulder said quickly.

“ _Bon_. Then I shall bring you something special to eat.”

“I’m not very hungry,” Mulder protested weakly, knowing that he would be overridden by the affable chef. After promising to bring him something light, Jean-Pierre hurried off and Mulder wondered how long it would be before Sean or Mason just happened to stroll through the room. The thought almost made him run for the door but he was too tired and heartsick to move.

He signaled for another drink and a second scotch appeared in front of him. It wasn’t his favorite drink but it had been Skinner’s and, perversely, Mulder had decided to order that, recklessly downing it. When his dinner arrived, his stomach protested against the smell of the food so he pushed the plate away and ordered a third drink.

“You look lonely sitting here? Mind if I join you?”

Mulder looked up to see an attractive, middle-aged man smiling down at him. He shrugged. “Fine, but I’m not very good company tonight.”

The man sat down across from him and tilted his head, studying him. “Ben Thompson. And you are?”

“Mulder.”

“I was watching you from across the room, Mr. Mulder. You seem to be hitting that stuff pretty hard tonight. Problem – or just lonely?”

“Both,” Mulder said with a half-laugh.

Thompson reached out a hand towards his right one. “May I?” Mulder shrugged, and the man pushed back his sleeve to reveal his wrist. “Unclaimed? A good looker like you?”

Mulder shrugged again. “Maybe I’m a Dom.”

Thompson laughed, but not unkindly. “No, you’re a sub all right. You’ve got the look. Besides, I’m a Junior and I know all the Doms here.” Mulder didn’t comment, only picking up his glass again. “How long has it been?”

“Since what?” Mulder asked cautiously.

“Since he or she took back the bracelet.”

“He didn’t take it – I gave it back,” Mulder said defensively. “A week.”

“Ah.” Thompson’s eyes studied him again. “A little soon to be looking for a replacement, isn’t it?”

Mulder’s heart contracted painfully at the thought of anyone taking Skinner’s place in his life. The pain must have shown in his face because the other man squeezed his hand sympathetically.

“I thought so. And that’s too bad because I bet you’d be fun to play with.” He patted Mulder’s hand again. “Go home, kid, before someone less scrupulous than me comes along and you get hurt.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” Mulder said defiantly.

“I expect that it is. You got anyone I can call to come get you, kid?”

“No, I – “

”Ah, there you are, Mulder!”

Mulder’s lip twisted at the sound of the familiar voice and he sighed. “Hello, Sean. Been expecting you to show up.”

Sean plopped down into the chair between Mulder and Thompson. “Sorry I was late, mate. I was a little tied up. Hi, Ben – what’s up?”

Thompson’s eyes gleamed. “Are you here to spoil my sport, Sean?”

“Me?” Sean asked with wide-eyed innocence. “Would I do that?”

“In a heartbeat – and I don’t blame you. Your friend is mighty attractive bait and the sharks smell the blood in the water.”

“This one wouldn’t interest you, Ben. Strictly light stuff, single player,” Sean said frankly. Mulder picked up his drink and tossed it off, sourly thinking that they sounded like they were talking about a used car. “However, you might be interested to know that the Twins are back in town and back on the market. You want the number?”

“Are you bribing me, Sean?”

“Will it work?” Sean asked, grinning at the other man. In reply, Thompson held out his hand and Sean scribbled down a number on a napkin. “Tell them you come highly recommended by me.”

“I will.” Thompson stood up. “And you take care of this one, you hear? He’s too easy of a mark.”

Sean nodded his thanks and turned back to Mulder, studying him frankly. “You look like hell, Mulder.”

Mulder laughed shortly. “It fits. I feel like hell.”

“Come on,” Sean said, getting up and pulling the other man to his feet. “We’re going back to my suite.”

“Don’t want to,” Mulder protested, but he was feeling a little dizzy now and so he let the smaller man guide him down the across the lobby and down the hallway to the suite Sean shared with Mason. Sean opened the door and steered Mulder towards the couch. Mulder sank down into the cushions with a groan, letting his head fall back and his eyes slide shut.

Sean crossed his arms, looking down at the collapsed man. “You want to tell me what this is all about?”

“No,” Mulder said shortly.

“Let me rephrase that. You want to tell me _before_ or _after_ I borrow Geoff’s paddle and take it to your ass?”

“Right. I can just see you try.”

“I may be little but I’m tough.” Mulder felt his hand being picked up and a gentle finger ran over the bare spot on his wrist. “So when did this happen?” Sean asked gently.

“What, Scully didn’t tell you all the gory details?” Mulder said mockingly.

“I don’t think she knows them, does she?”

“No,” Mulder said with a sigh. “She been on loan to Quantico for the past few days since – “

“Since?”

Mulder pulled his hand away and tried to get up. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to go home.”

“No, you don’t, Mulder, or you wouldn’t have been getting plastered and looking for a pick-up. I know all about it, remember? And take it from me – this is definitely _not_ what you want to do.”

Mulder sat back down, putting his face in his hands, his throat suddenly tight. “God, Sean – I’ve really fucked up this time. And there’s no way in hell to put the pieces back together again.”

Sean sat down next to him, pulling his head up against his shoulder. “Don’t say that, mate. There’s always an answer to every problem. Just tell me what happened, why you gave back the bracelet.”

Mulder shook his head. “I can’t. I was so fucking stupid – Walter will never forgive me.”

“He loves you deeply, Mulder. I’m sure that he will forgive you.” Sean sighed as he felt Mulder’s head-shake. “All right, maybe Geoff can talk to him. Just tell him what happened and - “

Mulder sat upright, horrified at the idea of telling the stern Dom about his experiment with self-asphyxiation, and felt his stomach turn over violently. With a gasp, he bolted for the bathroom, losing the little he had managed to eat that day. Dry heaves racked his body, and he was barely aware of a soothing hand rubbing his back as he trembled helplessly.

Sean wrapped his arms around the shaken man, rocking him gently and murmuring soothing words. He was relieved to hear Mason call his name from the front room.

“In here, Geoff,” he yelled back, and looked up into the older man’s concerned face as he entered the bathroom.

“What happened?”

"I don't know. Mulder was really tying one on in the dining room. I brought him back here and tried to get him to tell me what was wrong. He refused to tell me, just said that Walter would never forgive him. When I mentioned you talking to Walter, he bolted for the bathroom and threw up."

"Nice to see I can still produce that reaction in subs," Mason said dryly.

"One other thing, Geoff. He's not wearing his bracelet." His eyes met Mason's. "The sharks were circling - fortunately, Ben Thompson got there first and he's a good guy."

Mason sighed. "All right. First things first - Mulder's in bad shape. Start the bath water and I'll get him undressed."

Stripping the younger man wasn't easy since he was still shaking and unable to assist, but Mason had a lot of past experience handling incoherent subs. In fairly short order, he had the younger man floating comfortably in the tub with Sean watching over him while he went into the living room to track down his errant apprentice. That proved easier said than done, however, as there was no answer either at the apartment or on Skinner's cell phone. There was also no answer on his private office line, but a call to the regular office number garnered success of a sort - he reached the other man's administrative assistant. Informed that the AD was in a high-level emergency meeting with the Director, he declined to leave a message. He thought about leaving one on Skinner's home phone but decided that the situation warranted a face-to-face meeting.

Returning to the bathroom, he was pleased to see that Mulder was no longer shaking but instead was relaxed and sleepy in the tub. Deciding it would be better to get the younger man out of the tub while he was still awake, he sent Sean to hunt up some spare pajamas while he helped Mulder get out and dried him down. Mulder roused enough to brush his teeth and then seemed to retreat back into his haze, docilely letting them dress him in the pajamas and roll him into the middle of the big bed. Once assured that the young man was asleep, they slipped into the living room and collapsed into each other's arms on the couch.

"Well, that wasn't _quite_ how I planned to spend my evening," Mason said with a sigh.

"You know, this is getting to be a habit. First Dana and now Mulder. I'm thinking we should hang out a sign saying that we provide a home away from home for FBI strays." He tilted his head up to kiss his mate's chin, the only part he could reach at the moment. "What do you think happened?"

"I have no idea. I tried to get hold of Walter to talk, but he's tied up in high-level meetings. Until we can talk to one or both of them, we're walking in the dark here."

"Did you - did you notice the marks on his neck?" Sean rolled on his side within the shelter of Mason's arms so that he could see the other man's eyes. "Something was tied tight around his neck. You don't think Walter - " At Mason's frown, he said quickly, "Maybe we're over-reacting here. Maybe he was on a bad case and got those marks and the bracelet was busted. Or taken off in a hospital and he hasn't had the chance to put it back on."

"Then why was he getting drunk? And why did he say that Walter wouldn't forgive him?" Mason said then sighed. "It's useless to speculate until we can talk to him. We should probably go to bed."

Sean moved to straddle him, leaning down to kiss him thoroughly. "Yes. We should."

Mason tried to separate himself from his affectionate spouse. "Sean. Considering we have a guest in our bed, this is not a good idea."

"Considering the fact that we have an extremely attractive sub in our bed, I think that I'd be an idiot to let you go near him until you're sated into unconsciousness."

Mason took Sean's head between his hands and kissed him tenderly. "Jealous, brat? You know there is no reason to be. Not only have I been completely faithful for nearly four years, but I have no interest in anyone else but you."

"Not even Walter?"

Mason sighed and wrapped his arms around the smaller man, settling Sean's head over his heart. "Baby, you know that Walter will always be special to me. I care about him deeply and I always will. But it's not even a tenth as much as I love you. You are my heart and soul. And if you don't know that, then I obviously need to spend a lot more time alone with you."

Sean flushed. "I know, Geoff. It's just that - lately you seem so busy with other things. The Club, training Dana, Mulder and Walter's problems. And my getting sick again didn't help. You're so worn out that we hardly get a chance to cuddle before you're dead asleep."

Mason kissed the flaming hair under his chin. "That's not your fault, sweetheart. Tell you what - after this mess gets straightened out, how about we take a little vacation? Go to some nice resort where we can crawl into bed and have room service cater to our needs."

Sean grinned and turned his head to kiss Mason's chest. "You spoil me, you know."

"I like to spoil you."

Unspoken but hanging in the air between them was the question - for how much longer? Mason ruthlessly pushed aside his sudden fears and pulled Sean's mouth up to his own, then proceeded to prove to his mate just as loved he was.

* * *

Mulder drifted up from a deep and pleasant dream in which he had been warm and safe, realizing with a sleepy smile that it had not been a dream. The warmth at his back reassured him and he snuggled back against his sleeping lover as a grin crossed his face at the thought of telling Skinner about the bad dream he had had. He rolled forward slightly, his knee brushing slightly against another leg, and he frowned sleepily. Eyes drifted open, and he found himself nose to nose with a sleeping Sean. Which meant that the warmth along his back was not Walter but -

"Shit!" he muttered, sitting straight up in the bed. His panicked brain tried to remember the previous evening but it was all a jumbled mess of images. Drinking in the dining room, an attempted pickup, Sean…That's right, Sean had taken him back to their suite and they had talked. He frowned, vaguely remembering being sick to his stomach, comforting arms wrapped around him, and then floating in warmth. He glanced down at his clothes and found that he was wearing an unfamiliar set of pajamas. Added to that, his head was pounding like a bass drum and his mouth felt like cotton.

"Oh, shit!" he muttered again, "What in hell happened to me?"

"It's not what happened to you but what _will_ happen to you if you don't lay down and shut up," growled a voice behind him, and he weakly slid back down to lay on his back and stare nervously at the Dom who still had his eyes closed.

"Um - Mason?"

"Mulder, what part of 'shut up' didn't you understand? Sean needs his sleep, so I suggest you close your eyes and do the same." Mulder tried to lay perfectly still to allow the Dom to drift back to sleep so that he could slip out of bed and take refuge on the couch. "And stop thinking so loudly. Nothing happened, little boy. Sean and I are exclusive, and you slept between us as innocently as a baby."

"Thanks," Mulder said softly. "For - for taking care of me, I mean."

Mason sighed and opened his eyes, looking over at the younger man. "You're a lot of trouble, Fox Mulder, but I guess you're starting to grow on me. Now roll over on your side."

Mulder did so, and then stiffened as he felt Mason put an arm around his waist. "What - what are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't run away." Mason's voice softened. "Go to sleep, kid. We'll get everything sorted out in the morning."

Oddly comforted by that thought and reassured by the familiar feeling of warmth against his back, Mulder slept.

* * *

When Mulder woke next, he was aware of only two things - his head hurt like it had been used in a soccer match while he slept, and his body was urgently demanding the bathroom. He groaned and tentatively opened his eyes, then shut them against the brightness of the room.

"Shit," he muttered, then his body repeated its demands and he groaned again.

"So you _are_ alive."

He managed to open one eye slightly and saw Sean stretched out on the bed on his side, fully dressed and grinning at him. He closed his eyes. "Go 'way, Sean."

"Is that any way to treat the man who has coffee and medicine for that hangover?"

At the thought of liquids, Mulder's body increased its demands and he pushed himself up. "Bathroom." Sean was immediately at his side, helping him up and guiding his shaky steps into the bathroom. "I can do this myself," Mulder protested as Sean parked him in front of the toilet.

"I don't _think_ so," Sean retorted. "If I let go of you, you're going to melt into the floor. Relax, Mulder - it’s not like I haven't seen it before."

Memories of floating in the big tub across the room came back and he groaned. "God, please kill me now!"

Sean chuckled. "Just get it over with, Mulder. You're not exactly a lightweight, you know."

Mulder gave up and relieved himself, unable to suppress a contented sigh, then accepted Sean's help washing his face and brushing his teeth. Back in the bedroom, Sean sat him down on the bed and set a pair of sweats beside him.

"These are some of Geoff's, so they should fit you. I'm going to go get your coffee and I'll meet you in the living room when you're ready."

Mulder nodded and, as Sean headed for the door, said, "Sean - thanks."

Sean turned around and smiled at him, nodding. "What are friends for?"

* * *

Mulder lay on the couch, head on Sean's lap, his eyes closed. He had taken the medicine Sean had given him and his headache had faded away. Sean had made him eat some dry toast with his coffee and, even though his brain had protested, his stomach had seemed okay with that. Then Sean had massaged away the tension in his shoulders. Now, feeling oddly lethargic but more relaxed, he lay on the couch and mentally drifted while the younger man talked about the latest gossip at the Club and in the city. It was oddly comforting to hear the other man rattle on with his nonsense, and for the first time in over a week, he felt protected and safe. If it weren't for the aching in his heart, he could almost be content.

Someone entered the room and he opened his eyes to see Mason squat down in front of him. "How are you feeling, Mulder?"

He managed a faint smile. "Like hell."

Mason smiled at that. "I know the feeling. I've tied one on myself a time or two. Did Sean give you anything for the headache and nausea?" Mulder nodded. "Then are you up for a little discussion?"

Mulder flushed. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Sean, let him sit up." The younger man helped him sit up and he groaned as the world spun.

Sean moved behind him so that Mulder could lean back against him, and he wrapped his arms around Mulder to give the older man comfort. "Easy, baby. Just relax. I won't let big, bad Geoffrey beat you up." He grinned over at his spouse and Mason gave him a mock glare before going into the kitchen. He returned with a glass, handing it to Mulder.

"Here. Drink this - slowly." Mason settled on the other end of the couch and watched Mulder sip at the sports drink He had tried to talk to Skinner again today and had been told that the AD had gone out of town on FBI business and wasn't expected back till the end of the week. So it looked like he would have to talk to Mulder first.

"Okay, Mulder. I want you to relax and to realize that we aren't trying to fix any kind of blame here. We just want to find out what happened so we can make things better." Mulder nodded. "First question - you aren't wearing your bracelet and I'm assuming that you didn't bust it or lose it like last time."

"No. I - gave it back."

"Did you two come to a mutual decision to end your relationship here at the Club?"

Mulder swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "Yeah. It was - mutual."

"Did the decision have anything to do with those marks on your neck?"

Mulder flushed. "Yes."

"Mulder." Mason leaned forward and took Mulder's hands in his. "Did Walter - hurt you?"

Mulder's eyes popped open. "No! God, no! It was nothing like that! Walter would never - "

"Then it was self inflicted?"

Mulder flushed again and dropped his head, staring at his hands. "Yes. I - um - I 'd read about the - um - intense sensations involved with breath play, and I - um - used my belt around my neck while I - um - "

"Jesus, Mulder!" Sean pushed him up and away, and for a sickening moment Mulder thought that he had lost this friend as well. Then Sean was turning him around so that he could take Mulder's shoulders in his hands and shake him. "Of all the stupid things to do! Do you know how many people are killed doing stupid shit like that? Huh?" Then Sean hugged Mulder tightly. "If you've got to do idiot bullshit like that, at least make sure you've got a knowledgeable friend standing by, okay?"

Mulder swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Okay," he managed to say.

"Promise me, Mulder. No edge play stuff unless I'm there to keep an eye on you."

Mulder nodded, and Sean released him, turning him back around to face Mason. With Sean's supportive presence, Mulder was able to face the older Dom. He had expected to see stern disapproval on his face and was surprised to see understanding there instead.

"Mulder, we all do stupid things sometime in our lives. None of us are saints. I take it that Walter found out?"

"He walked in while I was unconscious. When I came to, he hit the ceiling."

"I can imagine." Mason took one of Mulder's hands. "I still don't understand about the bracelet. Just because you had a fight - "

"We didn't have a fight. You have to have two people with different opinions to have a fight. I'm not _allowed_ an opinion on the matter."

Mason and Sean exchanged a look at the bitterness in Mulder's voice. "Just what do you mean by that?"

"Walter makes all the decisions in our personal lives, here and at the Club."

" _All_ the decisions, Mulder? What you eat, when you sleep, what you wear?"

Mulder sighed. "Okay, not _all_ the decisions. But he keeps telling me that he wants me to be an equal partner in our relationship and then turns around and tells me that we can't do whatever it is I want to do."

"You're still being vague, Mulder. Are we talking bedroom games here or quibbles over the remote control?"

"This isn't funny," Mulder said with a scowl. "I'm talking about serious issues."

"So am I. Did you know that most marriages and long-term relationships break up over little things that wear down over the years? Like squeezing the toothpaste wrong or leaving damp towels on the floor. And gay relationships are even more fragile than straight ones. Now, if it makes you uncomfortable to talk with us, I can send you to Dr. Kate. But Sean and I are probably going to have a closer perspective on these issues."

Mulder was silent for a few minutes, staring at his hands, then sighed. "Walter is - was - very good to me. He encouraged me to take the lead at home - in bed, I mean. Our sex life was great, and if he was a little fussy about me leaving my stuff all over his place, well, I'm just a natural slob and he's not."

"But?"

Mulder moved a little, restless. "He'd flip anytime he thought I was behaving like a sub at home. For example, as a surprise for his birthday, I tried to surprise him by oiling my body and putting on gold slave chains, and he had a fit. Sent me upstairs to take it off. We - um - made up later, but it pissed me off."

"Did he say why he reacted that way?"

"Yeah, he said that he wanted the Club and home to be separate. That Kitten belonged here at the Club, not at his place."

"Kitten?"

Mulder flushed and Sean said, helpfully, "Mulder's sub name."

Mason's lip twitched. "Well, I've got to hand it to Walter - the name is highly appropriate."

"Well, I _hate_ that name," Mulder growled, and turned to glare at Sean when the younger man murmured, "Down, Kitty."

"So let me get this straight - Walter wanted you two to be vanilla at home and to save the kink for here at the Club. Did you agree to that?"

"I wasn't given the opportunity to agree or not. Walter said that's the way it was going to be."

"So much for leaving the Dom at the Club," Sean said dryly.

"Hush, Sean. How did you feel about that decision, Mulder - not the fact that you weren't allowed to decide, but the idea of playing vanilla at home?"

Mulder sighed. "Actually, I kinda liked that. It may have been regular sex but it was _good_. And I got to top Walter - I really enjoyed that."

"But?"

Mulder was silent for a long while, plucking at a small hole in the knee of the sweat pants. "Sometimes I get these feelings," he whispered.

Mason turned his face up so that he could see Mulder's eyes. "What kind of feelings?"

"Like I'm unraveling. Like things are coming apart inside me. I feel - edgy. And I'm hell to be around when I'm like that - sarcastic, disrespectful, even hurtful. I can be a real S.O.B. sometimes," Mulder admitted. "Scully's put up with me in those moods for a long time."

"So it's not just at home that you're like that - it's at work, too? What causes you to feel like that?"

"I don't know!" Mulder snapped, trying to pull out of Sean's arms. "If I knew what the hell caused it, don't you think I'd try to fix it?"

Sean tightened his grip so that Mulder couldn't get away and Mason said, "I take it that you're feeling that way right now."

"Yeah." Mulder slumped back against Sean.

"What do you do when you feel like this? Other than lash out at those around you."

"I run," Mulder whispered. "I run for miles and miles. Sometimes, if I run hard enough and far enough, I can get away from them."

"Who are you trying to get away from?" Mason asked and, as Mulder twisted once more in Sean's arms, he grasped Mulder firmly. "Mulder, answer me."

"Demons," Mulder whispered again, shutting his eyes tight.

Mason and Sean exchanged a look before Mason asked, "Where are the demons, Mulder?"

"Inside me. I push them down into the dark but they keep coming back up."

"What do these demons look like, baby?" Sean asked softly, in Mulder's ear. "Tell me so I can help you fight them."

Mulder shook his head. "You can't. They're too strong. Even Walter couldn't help me fight them."

"Hey, I may be little but I'm tough. And I bet I've fought some of these same S.O.B.s myself."

"Mulder, how do you push them back down?" Mason asked.

"I told you - I run."

"Till you're exhausted? Pushing yourself till you're in physical pain? Punishing your body?" Mulder was silent. "Is that what you want Walter to do?"

"Yes - no - hell, I don't know." Mulder shivered, and Sean wrapped him tighter. "I'm tired. Can I go back to bed?"

"Not just yet, little one." He signaled for Sean for give him Mulder, and the younger man transferred Mulder to Mason's arms. Mulder buried his face in Mason's shoulder, relishing the strength and warmth of the Dom, almost able to imagine that it was Walter holding him like this. "Sean's going to get the bed ready for you and give you something that'll help you sleep, but we need to talk a little more, okay?"

Mulder shook his head. "Don't want to talk."

"Don't argue with me, my boy. Unlike Walter, I have no compunction about swatting your ass."

Mulder sighed and snuggled in closer, murmuring, "Wanted him to."

"I know, little one. You tried to trick him into doing that, didn't you? And that wasn't nice at all. I can imagine Walter was terrified to find you like that."

Hot tears fell on Mason's shoulder. "I didn't mean it to happen that way. He came home early. I guess I wanted him to see the bruises afterward and get mad."

"I'll have Sean show you better ways to ask for what you need, pet. Safer ways."

"Walter won't - "

"Walter _will_. I taught him better than this, and I think it's time for a little refresher course."

Mulder sat bolt upright, horror on his face. "No! It's _my_ fault - don't punish Walter!"

"Two people made this mess, my boy, and two people are going to have to clean it up," Mason said firmly. "And I know that it hurts more to see the one you love punished, so you can just think about that for your punishment. If you had come to either Sean or me and talked about these problems _before_ \- like I asked you to do - we could have avoided this."

"Couldn't you punish me instead of punishing Walter?"

"Don't get me wrong, little boy. What you did was incredibly stupid and you deserve to be paddled but good for it. But you both need Walter to handle that, not me."

"Then why are you going to - "

"Mulder, I am responsible for Walter as much as he is responsible for you. Part of this is my fault, too, for not insisting that Walter talk to me about these issues he was having, and I don't even want to think about what _my_ master would do to me if he were here to see this."

Sean returned with a glass of water and the sleeping tablets in time to hear this and he grinned. "Master Nin scares the shit out of _me_ , and I don't scare easily."

Mulder swallowed the tablets as the concept of a long line of responsibility stretching from one Dom to another tried to sink in. "I'm glad I'm a sub," he said with a sigh. "At least I know it's just my butt that's going to get kicked."

Mason laughed and Sean grinned. "Come on, little one - time for you to catch a nap."

Between the two of them, they got Mulder back into bed and tucked him in. Mason ruffled his hair gently and smiled down at his sleepy face. "Don't worry, pet. It will all work out in the end."

Reassured by that thought, Mulder closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

* * *

It was morning again when he opened his eyes, and this time he found himself alone in the big bed. He stretched muscles that were slightly cramped after sleeping for so long but felt better rested than he had in a long time. There was an inner warmth, too, a peacefulness that he hadn't known in months, and it seemed that the demons had been driven away for now. As far as the future went, he'd have to trust Mason that all would resolve itself.

He hopped out of bed and indulged in a long, hot shower, then found that fresh clothes had been laid out for him, part of the stash of casual clothes that he kept in Skinner's suite in case he needed them. He resolutely didn't think about that, dressing and going into the main room in search of his hosts.

Mason and Sean were sitting in the dining area, reading the Sunday paper and finishing their breakfast, and both looked up as he entered.

"Well look at that, Geoff - he is alive."

"Join us, Mulder. There's coffee and a selection of breakfast items in the warmer in the kitchen."

"Would saying I'm not hungry earn me a thump?" Mulder asked with a grin.

"At the very least," Sean said. "Mason is obsessed with people's eating habits."

"Must be a Dom thing," Mulder said with a yawn as he went into the kitchen. "So is Walter."

Mason chuckled. "You should have seen him when I first met him - the man wouldn't have known a vegetable if it bit him, and his idea of a full breakfast was more than one cup of coffee."

"You can't be talking about the same man," Mulder objected, coming back in with a cup and a sweet roll. "Walter is an avid vegetable lover."

"He is _now_ ," Mason said tranquilly.

Mulder shuddered and looked at Sean, "I'm glad he's _your_ Dom and not mine."

"Which brings up a point," Mason said, setting down his coffee cup. "Are you planning on coming to the Club before you and Walter get back together?"

Mulder blinked. "Well, I wasn't planning on playing with anyone else," he said, glancing over at Sean. "Despite what happened in the dining room."

"That's the problem," Sean said frankly. "You're too new at this to be running around here unclaimed - I'm afraid that you'll get into trouble through no fault of your own."

"So you want me to stay away from the Club," Mulder said. His throat was suddenly tight and he pushed away the sweet roll.

"Only if you want to," Mason said. "But that's only part of the problem. The people who got you here in the first place, the man who owned Benett and his cohorts, are going to be after you as well. Without Walter's protection, you are in serious danger."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I'd like you to consider accepting my bracelet until Walter claims you again."

Mulder looked up, startled. "You want me to belong to you?"

"I want you to accept my protection. I'm not asking you to play games with me, or to have sex with me. I will expect to have your respect and obedience, but nothing more. In return, I'll keep you safe both here and outside the Club."

"How can you be certain?"

"I've tangled with these people in the past, Mulder. I have a certain - reputation with them. They won't try anything."

Mulder frowned. "I don't want to hide behind someone like a child."

"You wouldn't be. We are allies, and I will do my best to keep you safe in any event, but this will make it easier for both of us."

Mulder sighed. "All right. But _you_ get to explain this to Scully, not me."

Mason laughed and picked up the bracelet he had brought to the table, fastening it around Mulder's wrist. Mulder touched the band, relishing the familiar feeling of the weight on his wrist even if the symbol on it was strange. It was almost enough to make him feel safe again. Almost.

* * *

Skinner drew a deep breath and entered the crowded conference room, making his way to the front of the room. He tried to focus his attention on what he needed to say and not look over the audience for the familiar figure that he knew would be there.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for being prompt.” Reaching the front of the room, he turned to face the curious faces watching him, keeping his attention on the front rows. Mulder, he knew from past experience, would be sitting at the back, against the wall.

“We’ve had reports of a planned terrorism activity in the Dallas area. Details are sketchy, but it appears that one of the federal buildings has been targeted for an attack similar to what happened in Oklahoma City. I don’t need to remind anyone in this room that we need to do our utmost to prevent that from happening. As all of you here are between assignments or on ones of lesser impact, I’m sending you to the Dallas office to assist in this operation. A special charter has been arranged and it leaves this evening. You will report to SAC Michaud in Dallas. Questions?”

He glanced around the room, half expecting Mulder’s hand to go up, but there was no movement at the back. After answering a few questions, he said, “All right, Agents. Go home and pack a bag. Kim has detailed information on your flight and lodgings which she will give you as you exit the room.”

Murmured conversations broke out as the assembled agents rose and headed out. Skinner had meant to exit before the crowd to reduce the possibility of bumping into Mulder, something he had managed to do for the past two weeks since the breakup, but he didn’t want to push his way through the crowd. He decided to wait till the room emptied, pouring a glass of water and sipping it while he waited. A soft half-laugh jostled him and, involuntarily, he glanced over at its source. Mulder’s eyes met his and, for a long moment, he couldn’t breath or think or feel anything except the heat from that glance. And then Mulder blinked, looked down at his partner, and reached for the forms that Kim held out to him.

Gold glinted around the exposed wrist.

The world spun dizzily for a moment, and Skinner felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Unsteadily, he put his hand down on the podium to keep from falling while his brain tried to sort out the implications of what he had just seen.

Mulder was wearing a Club bracelet.

And at home, in his desk drawer, lay the bracelet that he had given Mulder, the one he had found on the hall table along with the copy of his apartment key.

* * *

Skinner set down his briefcase and locked the front door, thankful to be home again. He wasn’t sure how he had made it through the rest of the afternoon, operating on autopilot while his body felt numb from the shock it had sustained.

He removed his tie and jacket, throwing both over the back of the couch instead of going upstairs to change as he normally did. Right now, his legs didn’t feel steady enough to carry him up the stairs. He crossed the room to the desk drawer, setting his weapon inside and then, hesitantly, picked up the narrow strip of gold lying there. Skinner drew a deep, shaky breath. No mistake, then. Here was his bracelet, so the one that Mulder was wearing must belong to someone else.

Someone else. Mulder belonged to someone else.

Blindly, he turned and made his way over to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a glass of Scotch and downed it quickly, then poured another. He started to put the bottle back, then changed his mind and took it with him as he moved to the couch. Sipping this drink slower, he brooded over this latest development.

Mulder had gone back to the Club and had found someone else to give him what he needed.

His hand went to the phone, intent on calling Mason. The other man would know whom Mulder belonged to now. Then he hesitated. The fact that Mason hadn’t called him first was ominous – and unlike the Dom. He would have expected the Master to swoop down on him and rip him a new asshole after finding out about the split. The fact that he hadn’t meant that Mason must have given up on him as well.

Skinner blinked his eyes against sudden painful tears. Bad enough that he had lost his lover and friend, but to lose the older man’s support as well was doubly devastating. He downed the rest of the drink in his hand and set down the glass, going back to the desk and opening the drawer again. He pulled out the bracelet again as well as a framed picture and carried it back to the couch with him. Pouring another drink, he stared broodingly at the picture that he had hidden away after Mulder had walked out. It was a good picture, one that his mother had taken the previous Christmas, with the two men sitting in front of the tree. He had been teasing Mulder about something and the younger man was laughing, while Skinner grinned at him with his arm around Mulder's shoulder. He traced one finger along the younger man's face, then blindly reached for the bottle again.

The shrill ringing of the phone startled him, and he set down both glass and picture before answering it, his voice short and sharp. “Skinner.”

There was silence on the other end, an uneasy silence that told him who it was without a word. He swallowed hard against the emotion made his throat hurt.

“Hello, Mulder. I thought you were supposed to be in Dallas.”

"I am. We're - we're at the hotel." The voice was uncertain, hesitant. “Walter?"

“You wanted something, Mulder?” His voice was sharper than he intended.

“I – I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have called – “

Skinner drew a deep breath, holding the whisky glass against his throbbing head. “It’s all right,” he said, resignedly. “Why did you call?”

“I – wanted to see if you – if you were all right. How you were doing.”

The softness in the voice of his former lover tore at his soul and he had to dig his nails into his leg to keep from screaming. Visions of that gold bracelet around his former sub’s wrist haunted him, and he couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “How do you _think_ I’m doing?”

“I – miss you, Walter.”

Skinner closed his eyes against the burning in them. “Mulder, is there a point to this conversation?”

“I need you.”

Skinner sighed. “We’ve had this talk. You need things I can’t give you.”

“I know.” The voice was low, desolate, and Skinner wanted to wrap his arms around the other man and soothe away his pain. “I’m sorry I bothered you –“

“Mulder,” Skinner said quickly, before the other man could hang up. “I’m sorry. I – miss you, too. I just – I can’t deal with this now.”

“I understand.” Mulder drew a deep breath. “Good-bye, Walter.”

Skinner sat listening to the dial tone for a long moment before he could summon enough energy to hang it up. He picked up his glass again and started to take a sip, but there was no comfort in the burning liquid. It tasted sour, the way his whole life felt. With a growl of anger, he threw the glass against the fireplace and its shattering echoed deep in his soul.


	38. Mason Intervenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason gets to the root of the problem with Skinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "I Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself" by Bacharach from "My Best Friend's Wedding" soundtrack.

  _I just don't know what to do with myself._ _  
I'm so used to doing everything with you,  
_ _Planning everything for two,_ _  
And now that we're through  
_ _I just don't know what to do with my time.  
_ _I'm so lonesome for you it's a crime._ _  
  
Baby, if your new love ever turns you down  
_ _Come back, I will be around_ _  
Just waiting for you._   
_I don't know what else to do._

 

“Well, Walter Skinner, you are certainly a sight.”

The voice was familiar and the tone one that made Skinner’s stomach clench. He pried open one eye, trying to focus on the figure standing before him with his arms crossed over his chest. He groaned and closed his eyes again.

“How – how did you get in here?”

“The building manager is a former sub of mine. He was very helpful.”

Mason tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair and surveyed the scene around him impassively. An empty whisky glass sat on the floor next to the couch and an empty bottle stood on the table. The remnants of another glass were shattered all over the fireplace hearth. A suit jacket and tie lay crumpled on the floor behind the couch. A picture frame lay face down on the floor and, when he picked it up, he found a gold Club bracelet lying underneath it. He glanced at the picture briefly before setting it down on the table and turning his attention towards his former apprentice.

Skinner was stretched out on the couch, still dressed in his suit pants and dress shirt although both were considerably worse for wear. His face was pale and unshaven and his eyes – what Mason had seen of them – had looked bloodshot.

“You look like hell, Walter,” he said frankly.

“Good,” Skinner groaned. “Because I feel like hell.”

“All right – upstairs and into the shower with you. I’m going to see about fixing you some coffee and breakfast.”

Skinner sat up with a groan. “God – don’t mention food. I don’t think I can eat a thing.”

“You, Walter Skinner, will eat whatever I put in front of you. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” came the automatic response as Skinner pushed himself up off the couch and headed slowly up the stairs.

Mason watched with satisfaction as the other man left and then went in search of the kitchen. He frowned when he saw the sink full of dirty dishes and silverware. This was unlike the normally fastidious Skinner and worried Mason even more than the drinking. He started the coffeemaker and began cleaning up.

By the time Skinner came back downstairs, the kitchen was clean and breakfast was nearly ready. Mason watched Skinner cautiously sit down at the table as if afraid his head would fall off if he moved too quickly. He smiled ruefully, having been there himself, and set down aspirin and a glass of water.

Skinner swallowed the aspirin gratefully and accepted a cup of coffee with relief. His stomach threatened rebellion at the dry toast and oatmeal Mason set in front of him, but one look at the face opposite him was enough to make him start eating. He managed to get most of it down, then settled back with a second cup of coffee and an almost contented sigh.

“All right, Walter,” Mason said. “Time to talk. I tried to give you time to come to me but I can see that’s not going to happen, and now things are in a hell of a mess. I've heard Mulder's side of the story, and I think it will hardly surprise you to learn that he blames everything on himself. He doesn't think that you can ever forgive him. He was in the Club the other night, drinking and being hit on by other Doms."

Skinner couldn't help the short bark of bitter laughter. "Well, it seems that he found one, didn't he? I saw the bracelet."

Mason sat back and studied the other man coolly. "Did you take a close look at the bracelet? Because if you had, you would have seen that the design was a familiar one. One with which you were intimately acquainted."

Skinner blinked, his tired brain trying to understand. "You? You took Mulder as your sub? Geoff - how could you?"

Mason frowned. "I don't think I like that tone of voice, Piglet. In the first place, I don't play with any subs but Sean. In the second place, Mulder only has eyes for you. I took him as my sub solely to offer him protection, both within the Club and without.” He studied the silent man across from him. "Or did you forget about the very real threat to Mulder's life and health and _sanity_ from the man who owned Benett?"

Skinner's eyes widened and his face paled. He had forgotten how Mulder had gotten into the Club to begin with, about the puppet-masters who wanted to pull his strings. "Shit!"

"Indeed," Mason said dryly. "So do you talk or do I loosen your tongue with my belt first?"

Skinner sighed. “Where do you want me to start?”

"As the Red Queen said, 'start at the beginning, go to the end, and then stop'."

Skinner rubbed his head, not exactly sure where the beginning was. "You know that I've been attracted to Mulder for a long time. Even back when I was training with you - I told you I was interested in one of my subordinates but I never told you his name. And then I let you think that Krycek was the man, but he wasn't. It was always Mulder."

"I figured that out for myself when I saw you two together. So why didn't you ever invite him to play? You didn't think he'd be interested?"

Skinner shook his head. "No. Other than the obvious problem that he was my subordinate at work, I thought he'd be _too_ interested. The man is driven, obsessed by his personal quests. He takes risks without thinking and then, when something goes wrong, he blames himself. He becomes absorbed in self-loathing, punishes himself by abusing his body."

"So you know about the demons."

"Is that what he calls them?" Mason nodded silently. "I'm not surprised. With everything he's seen and been through….  Anyway, I thought that he would be too attracted by the idea of being beaten for his sins. If we hadn't been pushed into this arrangement by the Consortium, I never would have acted on those feelings." He smiled a little ruefully. "Who would have thought that I'd be grateful to those bastards for something?"

"Maybe that's exactly what they had in mind," Mason said. "Or at least some of their members. I had dealings with them several years ago and found that their methods were puzzling and contradictory, to say the least. So Mulder joined the Club and you accepted his submission."

"Yes, and everything was going well. He was a delight to play with - eager and responsive. And when we fell in love, it all felt so right, so perfect."

"So what was the serpent in this little paradise?"

Skinner sighed. "After Benett, things were different, but I expected that. He would drop into sub behavior here from time to time - sitting at my feet, calling me 'Sir' or 'Master'. And then there was my birthday."

"Mulder told me that he presented himself to you as a slave and that you hit the ceiling."

"Yeah." Skinner was silent for a long moment. "He was gorgeous, Geoff. Naked, kneeling in front of the fireplace, light glinting off the golden chains and the oil all over his body. And I blew it. I told him to get upstairs and take that shit off."

"Do you know why you did that?"

Skinner stared at his hands. "I was so turned on by the way he looked, I just wanted to pounce on him and use him like he _was_ my slave, my property. It scared me how much I wanted to do that to him - to Fox, my lover, the man with whom I want to spend my life."

"And isn't that just how you treated him - like your property?"

Skinner looked up, angry. "I just told you that I didn't take him!"

"No - you sent him away, like a slave who has failed to please his master. Like a whore, a rent-boy who has failed his client."

"I didn't - "  
  
"Didn't you? Did you give Mulder a chance to explain? Did you give him a choice? Did you _ask_ him to go upstairs or did you _order_ him to do so?"

Skinner swallowed hard. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Afterward, did you discuss the situation with Mulder?"

"We talked," Skinner said stiffly.

Mason reached out to grab him by the back of the neck. "Don't you take that attitude with me, my boy. I know just how to remove that poker that's up your butt. You're already in serious trouble with me, so I suggest that you not compound your troubles."

"Yes, Master," Skinner said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Mason released him with a sigh. "I don't know who is more troublesome - you or your brat. Go on. You were saying that you talked - did you have a discussion or did you talk and Mulder listened?"

"I - we talked. Together."

"I see. And you discussed rights and responsibilities within your relationship. You both talked about your expectations in and out of bed. You both discussed your needs and, where those needs conflicted, you came to a mutual agreement. One in which each of you was willing to compromise a little so that both of your needs were met." Skinner was silent. "I thought as much." Abruptly, he stood up. "Come with me, Walter. I haven't seen this place of yours, although it appears to be a great improvement on the last place. At least you finally got those boxes unpacked."

Skinner rose, looking at Mason in disbelief, trying to follow the abrupt change in the conversation. "You want me to give you a tour of my apartment _now_? Why?"

"I don’t need to explain anything to you, Piglet. You belong to me, remember?" He gestured towards the kitchen doorway. "Lead on. I've already seen the kitchen."

Reluctantly, Skinner escorted Mason through the apartment, letting the Dom examine all the rooms and warily accepting the older man's compliments. When they finished, they ended up back in the living room. Mason gestured for Skinner to sit down while he wandered over to the bookcases and appeared to be examining each spine.

"Very nice, Walter," he said genially, and Skinner stiffened immediately. Whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be pretty. "Of course, I expected to see more of Mulder's influence around the place now. Oh, but you've probably sent back all his belongings, haven't you?"

Since the book Mason was examining at the moment had Mulder's name inscribed on the flyleaf, Skinner knew that Mason was aware that he hadn't but he said quietly, "No. He packed his clothes, but I haven't had a chance to send back his - his things."

"Ah. But then, Mulder hadn't moved in here completely, had he? No doubt he was hesitant to commit himself fully by bringing more personal items than fit on one bookshelf. Although I must admit that even I would be intimidated by the idea of insinuating myself into this perfect environment that you've created."

Skinner blinked. "I - I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Have you ever noticed how Mulder refers to this place? Occasionally he calls it 'home' but more often it's 'your place'. Never 'our place'. Now, why do you think that is?"

Skinner sighed. "Come on, Geoffrey, I know what you want me to say. Because I've never made him feel like this place is his. But it’s not as simple as that – Mulder’s been reluctant to move in here from the start and I didn’t want to push him."

Mason turned back to Skinner. “Sometimes it’s hard to know when to push and when to back off. Especially when the other person isn’t talking to you about what’s really at the heart of the matter.” He sat down on the couch and took one of Skinner’s hands in his. “Peaches, you aren’t the only one at fault here, and I understand how difficult it can be to deal with a lover who doesn’t understand his own motivations.” Then he smiled and patted Skinner’s cheek affectionately. “But then again, you aren’t the most flexible person in the world.”

Skinner sighed. “No, I know that. Mulder said that I made all the rules and he’s right.”

Mason sat back against the couch so he could study Skinner’s face. "How did you feel when I said earlier that I didn't need to explain anything to you because you belonged to me?"

"Angry," Skinner said reluctantly, "and then resigned because it's true. I _do_ belong to you."

"You and I are not in a romantic relationship. We have a special bond in which you acknowledge me as the master, even if most of the time we let that bond lay dormant. I can make all the rules and demand your obedience without your agreement because that's what we are. However, you and Mulder _are_ in a romantic relationship and merely play Dom/sub games at the Club."

"You're in a relationship with Sean and you control him as well."

"Because that's what we agreed to and that's what each of us needs. I like being in control and Sean likes being submissive. We play Master and Slave every hour of every day because that's what we enjoy. But even within those parameters, there are certain areas where Sean is in complete control. Most slaves turn their property over to the master to manage, but Sean owns and manages his own businesses. He would highly resent my meddling in them if I were fool enough to try - which I wouldn't. The man is a financial genius, just like his father. I manage the Club but all final decisions are in his hands, and all of the Board members of any company that he owns would agree that he is definitely in charge. He's got the best mind for business that I've ever seen, and not just for what will turn a profit but what is good for his employees and the world around him. But there’s a lot of pressure as well, and my Sean has his share of demons. He _needs_ me to be in control of our private life and he adores playing the empty-headed sub - by his own choice."

"So what has this got to do with Mulder? I know that he's brilliant, I know that he can think circles around me, and I _want_ him to be independent. I told him that he needed to stand on his own two feet, to be my partner and my equal."

Mason sighed and took Skinner's face between his hands. "Did you hear what you said? 'I want'. "I told.' What about what Mulder wants?"

"You think - you think that Mulder wants to be in that kind of relationship with me?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't think he does," Mason said. "From what he said to me, he likes being equals in bed here. He likes being on top occasionally, which is good because I know that you need that from time to time as well. So, for the most part, he's content."

"And what does that mean - for the most part?"

"Well, first of all, it's hard to accept something that you are told you have to accept without having any input. It brings out the rebel in all of us. So if you had discussed this matter and agreed to it, I expect he would be happier."

"And second?"

"His demons." Mason leaned forward, capturing Skinner's eyes. "You know that he pulled that last stunt to push you into punishing him." Skinner nodded. "Why do you think he did that?"

Skinner sighed heavily. "Because I gave him no other choice. I didn't listen to him and I didn't pay attention to his needs. I wouldn't listen to his request to play heavier at the Club." He looked back at the Dom. "But you just don’t understand, Geoff. He was at a vulnerable time – I couldn’t bear to see him hurt any more than he was.”

Mason’s mouth twisted with pain. “You don’t think I know how that feels? I would _love_ to wrap Sean in cotton wool and just cherish him but he would hate it. He needs the release rough play gives him, and I’m sure you remember how freeing it feels to turn yourself over to someone else.” He sighed. “No one ever said that being a Dominant was easy – that’s one of the reasons that there’s more of them than us. Which is why it is important to know that you can turn to your own master when things get too much for you - something you failed to do, my boy.”

Skinner felt a sudden wave of anger and frustration. “Come on, Geoff. I knew what you would say – that I needed to put the past behind me. Well, that may be easy for you to do, but it’s a hell of a lot harder for me! You don’t know what I went through!”

Mason grasped Skinner’s chin, forcing him to meet the older Dom’s eyes. “No, but before this weekend is over, I will. It’s past time to lance this wound, my dear boy, and may God forgive me for letting you hurt this long because I certainly know that _my_ old master never would.”

Skinner’s anger dissolved and his throat tightened. “Not your fault, Master Geoff.”

“I believe I’ll be the judge of that, Walter Skinner. Now, as to your Mulder and his problem. His whole world was falling apart. He'd lost his job but it seems to me it was more than just a job - it was his life's work. The only place where he felt he still had structure was at the Club. I think he was trying to recreate that feeling at home by dropping into sub behavior. I can understand that you wanted to be equals here, but he needed you to bring him in closer, give him reassurance. You forced him to stand on his own two feet – and he retaliated by trying to force your hand and get your attention in a dramatic way. He was _asking_ for you to pull him up short.”

“I yelled at him – “

“What did you tell him you would do if you caught him playing that kind of game?”

“That I would take a strap to him.”

“And you didn’t. You backed off and Mulder felt like the walls he was depending on were knocked down. He’s in free-fall, Walter, and he doesn’t know how to stop himself. Dana’s been trying to help and so have I, but it’s up to you to grab him by the short hairs and straighten him out. But first,” Mason said, sternly, “it’s up to _me_ to straighten _you_ out.”

Skinner took a deep breath and nodded. He had known that there would be a price to pay and that it would be a painful one, but he was almost relieved at the thought. He had screwed up and it was a comfort to know that Mason was there to catch him.

At that thought, his eyes widened as sudden knowledge struck him, and then he groaned and put his head in his hands. _Mulder_ , he thought helplessly, _I understand now. I_ _understand what you wanted_.

Mason saw from the look on Skinner’s face that realization had sunk in and nodded in satisfaction. He had wondered how he was going to make the other man realize that, in this respect, his needs and Mulder’s were almost the same and was pleased that Skinner had figured it out for himself.

“Alright, Piglet, pack a bag. You’re coming back with me.”

* * *

Sean was stretched out on the couch, reading something with intense concentration, when Mason entered with Skinner. He looked up with a grin.

"I wondered when we'd be hosting the third member of our merry little band." He pushed himself up into a sitting position. "You want me to clear off so you can have some time alone?"

Mason shook his head. "Not yet. I've got to do a detox first, and I could use your help, if you're not too busy."

Sean threw the file into the briefcase. "Just reading the Quarterlies - nothing that won't keep. How complete a detox?"

"Well, this idiot seems to have consumed the better part of a bottle of Scotch in one night, added to a week of junk food and little sleep." Mason gave Skinner a look of affectionate disgust. "I'm amazed that he's functioning at all."

"You guys _do_ know that I'm still here in the room with you," Skinner growled.

"Believe me, Piglet, I'm highly aware of that fact - although you might want me to forget it until you're sufficiently recovered to take what's coming to you," Mason said dryly. To Sean, he said, "Liquid purge, enema and shower, then a long soak while we put the electrolytes back in him, followed by a nice, long rest." He gave Skinner a look as if to dare him to argue.

Sean got off the couch, giving Skinner an amused look. "You _have_ been a bad boy, haven't you? Follow me."

Skinner sighed and followed Sean into the bedroom, hanging his suit bag in the old place. Even if he wasn't looking forward to this weekend, it was still a comfort to fall into the familiar patterns.

"I expect you know the routine," Sean called to him from the bathroom as he started the bathwater and got out a disposable enema bottle. He set the bottle and lube on the nightstand, glancing over at Skinner as the man began undressing. "I'll be back with your drink when Geoff's finished prepping you."

"Sean," Skinner called as the younger man started to leave. "Mulder - was he okay when you saw him last?"

Sean paused in the doorway. "He was hurting pretty badly. I saw him drink three whiskies in half an hour, and held him while he threw up. If it weren't so obvious that you're hurting pretty badly yourself, I'd punch you right now, and I certainly hope Geoff wears out your ass." His voice softened. "But yeah, he was okay when I saw him last. He'll be even more okay when you're back together."

Skinner's throat was tight but he nodded and managed to say, "Thanks."

Sean smiled, a little reluctantly, and said, "Don't mention it." Then he left the room.

Mason entered the bedroom as Sean left and handed Skinner a glass. "Drink." Skinner silently and obediently downed the concoction and handed the glass back, then continued undressing. "He's very fond of Mulder, you know."

"I know. I'm glad Mulder's got a friend like him. He - doesn't have many close friends." Skinner lay down on the bed on his stomach and tried to relax while Mason administered the enema.

"I think he's got more than he knows," Mason said with a smile. "Several people saw him in the bar the other night and dropped by to talk to me, including that strange friend of his - the computer hacker."

"Frohike," Skinner said with a sigh. "God, if he finds out about this, he's going to have my nuts."

Mason chuckled. "Actually, I think his scheme involved multiple IRS audits and the sudden loss of all your financial holdings. You can relax, though; I told him I would handle it."

"Good. He and his friends scare me."

"And I don't?"

"Oh, you terrify me, Master Geoffrey, but I know what to expect with you. Those three are capable of doing _anything_."

Mason laughed and smacked Skinner's ass. "All right, you can go use the bathroom now and then hop in the shower while I check on the bath water."

A short time later, Skinner was steaming in the big tub, eyes closed as he drifted contentedly. His head no longer hurt and, although he felt curiously light-headed, it was a rather pleasant feeling. He opened one eye as Sean entered with a pitcher of some blue liquid and a glass.

"Here," Sean said, pouring a glass. "Mason wants you to finish the whole pitcher before nap time so you'd better start now." He sat down in a chair by the tub and watched Skinner drink. "I'm also supposed to make sure you don't drown."

"I appreciate it," Skinner said, finishing the first glass and handing it back to Sean for a refill. "I'd hate to disappoint Geoff when he's so looking forward to taking a piece out of my hide."

Sean grinned at that. "He'd probably chase after you into Heaven, just to make sure you got that whipping."

Skinner closed his eyes, leaning his head back. "He'd be looking in the wrong place."

"Walter." Sean's voice was gentle. "I know you didn't mean to hurt him. You did what you thought was right."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about the road to Hell," Skinner said shortly.

"We all make mistakes, Mountain," Sean said softly, and Skinner was inexplicably pleased to hear the teasing nickname again. "Here - drink another glass of this stuff."

Skinner groaned and accepted the glass. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you? Just a more subtle way than most people would choose."

"What, and have Geoff after my ass instead? No, thank you. I get into plenty of trouble on my own."

"Sean," Skinner said hesitantly, "Geoffrey and I were talking earlier about relationships. That you worked out an arrangement that satisfied both of you. How did you do that?"

"We talked," Sean said simply. "And it wasn't as easy as he might have made it sound. We had a lot of adjustments to make in our early days. We were lucky that our needs pretty well meshed, too. But my demons nearly did us in." Sean drew his legs up onto the chair, wrapping his hands around his knees.

"Can you - are you okay talking about it?"

Sean was silent for a moment. "I'd been through a lot that last year. Sometimes the memories would come back, and I'd get pissed off at the world. I'd lash out at Geoff about everything - about nothing. Not about what was really bothering me, though. Geoff thought I was being a SAM - you know, pushing him to see if he was good enough to control me." Sean shrugged. "Maybe I was. I'd certainly done that before with others."

"What happened?"

"We were coming apart. He'd try disciplining me and I'd either fall apart crying in his arms or tear off in a hell of a temper and stay gone for days. He'd try to talk to me but I couldn't tell him what was going on because I didn't know either. And then we'd be fine again for days and weeks at a time before another episode. And part of the problem was that Geoff was trying to fix everything on his own so he was exhausted, at his wit's ends, and - well, that's the closest I've seen him come to utter despair."

"So what happened?"

Sean grinned at him. "What do you _think_ happened? Master Nin."

"Mason's teacher? I thought he never traveled."

"He doesn't - Jean-Pierre sent for him. You knew that they both had the same master, right?"

"I had guessed it from some things Master Jean said."

"Well, he was royally pissed. You think Master Geoff on a tear is bad, but you've never lived till you've seen Master Nin. The man is as old as dirt, like one of those ancient Oriental philosophers, and he never raises his voice. He doesn't have to. He raised an eyebrow at me and I hit my knees with my face in the carpet and nearly wet myself."

Skinner chuckled at that image. "He must be something to get that reaction from you. So what happened?"

"I don’t know. They sent me to Dr. Kate for the weekend, and she and I really worked on uncovering the root of my problems. I expect that Master Nin did the same with Geoff, but I wasn’t about to ask for details. When I came back to Mason's suite, he seemed okay - no, better than okay. Like all his troubles had been washed away and all his burdens lifted. I still don't understand."

Skinner smiled, remembering how he had felt earlier after his confession to Mason. "It's a Dom thing. Sometimes you need someone higher up the line to change your point of view."

"Ah. Well, Geoffrey took me to a deluxe suite at one of the local hotels and we spent three days in bed - and not just for sex. We held each other, and we talked, and we cried, and we kissed. I talked to him about my fears, and we figured out what I needed when they surfaced. And the sex - it was even better than our honeymoon."

"And that did it?"

"Pretty much. We had some work to do, and we still have our ups and downs, but they are minor. And we try to do that once a year - go away and just concentrate on each other."

Skinner was silent for a few minutes, thinking over what Sean had said. "Maybe Mulder and I should do that - get away and talk and be together. We went on vacation together but we spent a lot of our time sightseeing and out where other people were.”

Sean grinned. "It can't hurt - and did I mention that the sex was fantastic?" He poured another glass and handed it to Skinner who groaned. "Drink - or Geoff can find less pleasant ways to get it into your system."

Skinner sipped, trying not to squirm. His kidneys felt like they were going to burst. "That sounds like the voice of experience."

"It is - and you can take my word on it that you don't want to know any more." He noticed Skinner squirming. "Need to get rid of some of that liquid?" He stood to give Skinner a hand out of the tub and grinned as he saw Skinner hesitate. "Well, you and Mulder certainly have similarities in the modesty department. Come on, Mountain - I promise not to molest you."

Skinner sighed and accepted Sean's help, finding that he was oddly lightheaded when he stood up. He was glad to sink back into the warm tub again.

A short while later, Mason joined them and gave Skinner an expert once-over. "Time to come out and get some rest."

Between the two of them, they got Skinner out, dried, and tucked into bed. Mason kissed Skinner's cheek and said, "Go to sleep, Peaches. I'll wake you before dinner."

"Thank you, Master," Skinner murmured sleepily, and let himself slip into the first restful sleep he had known in over three weeks.

* * *

A day later, Skinner stood in the small kitchen attached to Mason’s suite, cleaning the place up and reflecting how easily the years had been pushed back. He could almost imagine himself back in his early days with Mason with only a few changes, such as the sweat pants he wore now instead of going naked. Even the presence of another person in the household was comforting instead of awkward, and Sean didn’t seem to feel threatened by the presence of his spouse’s former apprentice and lover. It certainly hadn’t inhibited the younger man from what Skinner had witnessed from his pallet on the floor the previous night. And even the slave pallet and the shackle around his ankle had been familiar and comforting in their own way.

As he wiped the counters down, he realized that he also felt better than he had in a long while. Not only did his body feel lighter and his head clearer after Mason’s purge-and-rebuild routine, but his heart also felt lighter after turning his burdens over to the master. There was only one other thing he needed to do in order to feel totally free again, and he knew it was time to begin.

He went into the living room and found Mason sitting on the couch, reading the Sunday paper with no sign of Sean. Skinner went down on his knees, relaxed and quiet, waiting for Mason to acknowledge his presence.

Mason folded his paper and set it aside, studying the man kneeling before him. Skinner looked better than he had the previous morning and he thought that it was time for them to take care of unfinished business.

“Well, Walter, Sean is going to be away for the next few hours, so I think this is a good time for us to have our little discussion.” He stood up and led the way to the playroom. “Collar and cuffs, Piglet.”

Skinner removed his sweatpants and folded them neatly, then put on the collar and cuffs as Mason set them on the table.

"You want me over the bench, Master Geoff?"

"Not yet, Peaches. First, we're going to talk about why we are here." Mason pointed at the floor and Skinner knelt. Mason turned a straight-backed chair around and straddled it.

Skinner took a deep breath. "We’re here to discuss my failure to meet the needs of my submissive."

"Tell me in what ways you have failed him."

"I failed to talk with him and listen to him, both as his Dom and his lover. I neglected his needs and forced him to resort to something dangerous to get my attention."

"Forced? Walter, did you give Mulder the belt and make him wrap it around his neck?"

"No, but - "

"Then you did not _force_ him to do anything. Mulder is not a child. He is a grown man, capable of making his own choices, and you must let him be responsible for his own mistakes. Both you and Mulder are too willing to take on the sins of others. Worry about your own sins instead."

"But if I hadn't ignored him - "

"Mulder had other options - talking to Sean, to me - or sitting on you and _making_ you listen. Lord knows the boy’s good at talking – he could talk the hind leg off a mule."

"Well, that's true," Skinner said reluctantly. "He's good at talking about some things - trivia, other people's feelings, but not his own. Not if he's feeling insecure or vulnerable."

"You know him pretty well."

"I've been watching him for years and we were together for almost a year."

" _Were_ , Walter?"

"You and Sean seem certain that Mulder will want to get back together but I'm not so sure."

Mason got up from the chair and crouched in front of the kneeling man. "He loves you, Walter. And true love always finds a way to forgive." He tapped Skinner's head. "Enough talking for the moment, but I want you to think over what we've talked about here."

Skinner nodded, then rose and got into place over the spanking bench. Mason checked his position to make sure that Skinner’s genitals were protected and then fastened the cuffs to the supports. Skinner looked at him in surprise; it had been a long time since he had required to be secured during any kind of session. The look that Mason gave him said that Skinner would need the restraint, and Skinner took a deep breath before letting his head hang down.

"All right, my boy, we're going to do this in stages, each addressing a fundamental problem that you need retraining in followed by some corrective action." He picked up a riding crop from the table and held it out for Skinner to see. "I'm sure that you remember your old friend."

Skinner groaned. "God, I thought that thing must have been destroyed years ago."

"No such luck, Piglet. Do you remember its purpose?"

"To remind me of the rules and reinforce them."

"Correct. And what is my primary rule for Dominants regarding their submissives?"

"The Dom is responsible for meeting the needs of the submissive." Skinner braced himself for the blow that he knew would follow and winced as it struck him across the ass.

"And what are you going to do to determine the needs of your submissive?"

Skinner gasped as the crop fell several times in succession. "Talk to Mulder. Discuss his needs and – and expectations. Work out - compromise if necessary."

"Good boy." He set down the crop and picked up a large paddle. Skinner’s breath caught at the sight of it – this wasn’t the little black paddle that Mason had used on him for erotic stimulation back during his training days. This one looked like it meant business.

"All right, my boy, you'll get ten swats from this to help your memory. They're going to be hard and fast, and I don't expect you to count or talk, but feel free to yell or scream or cry if necessary."

Skinner gritted his teeth, determined to keep quiet, but the first swat rocked him in his bonds and made him swear out loud. By the time the tenth one had landed, he was yelling at the top of his lungs.

He felt a soothing hand on his back, rubbing him gently, and managed to gasp out, "All done?"

Mason bent his head to kiss the back of Skinner's head. "Ah, my poor Peaches, this is only intermission after the first act. Two more sets to go."

Skinner groaned. "Please, Master, I've learned my lesson. I swear it. Please, let me go."

"Not yet, my boy." He held a straw to Skinner's lips. "Drink."

Skinner readily drank the few mouthfuls that Mason allowed him before setting the cup aside.

"All right, Piglet, time for the next part of your reeducation. What is the most important interaction between a Dom and sub, as well as between all lovers?"

"Communication." Skinner grimaced as the crop fell on his tender backside. "I need to - communicate my thoughts and feelings - to my submissive – and make sure that - he is communicating his as well."

"I want you to work especially hard on this with Mulder. The next time I see the two of you together, I want you each to have shared a good memory, a bad memory, and a fantasy."

Skinner groaned as he saw Mason set down the crop and pick up the paddle again. "Yes, Master."

As each of the ten blows fell, it felt as if his entire body was vibrating with the pain, and he was screaming after the sixth one. When Mason set down the paddle and held the straw to his lips, he drank as much as Mason would let him before sagging in the restraints.

"No more, Master," he begged. "Please."

Mason caressed his head tenderly. "One more set and then we're done."

"God, no, please," Skinner moaned but Mason ignored him.

"Final lesson, what should a Dom do if he runs into a situation that he can't handle?"

Skinner cried out at the feel of the crop across his tender skin. "Get help," he whispered.

"I didn't hear that, Piglet."

"Get help!" Skinner yelled. "Talk to his own master. To other Doms. To - God, I don't know!"

"Professionals would be another choice - like Dr. Kate. Other subs might be able to give additional insight. But avoiding a problem _never_ helps any situation. Do you understand me, Walter Skinner?"

"Yes," Skinner moaned. "I understand."

"All right. Last set."

Mason picked up the paddle again, and Skinner tried to brace himself but it felt like fire exploding across his ass. He gasped at the first one then cried out on the second, and by the time Mason finished, he was sobbing freely. Mason set down the paddle and rubbed gentle circles on Skinner's back, letting the man work through the pain and humiliation. When he felt the sobs lessening somewhat, he unfastened the cuffs and helped Skinner down. He guided Skinner into the main room, pushing him down to lie on the couch on his stomach with his head in Mason's lap. Skinner lay there for a long time, silently shuddering until he finally caught his breath.

"S-sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for. If you hadn't had this reaction, I would have put you through more sets till you did." Mason stroked Skinner's head and said, softly, "Time to talk again, Peaches. I want to know what happened with Alex Krycek."

Skinner sighed but knew there was no escaping this talk and, in a way, it would be a relief to get it out of his system. He rested his head on Mason’s leg, adjusting his body slightly so that he was as comfortable as possible. He closed his eyes and relaxed, concentrating on the gentle hand stroking his hair instead of what he had to say.

“He approached me when I was still a Junior just before I made Senior – he recognized the Club bracelet and, when he found out I was a Dom, propositioned me.”

“And you accepted. Why?”

Skinner flushed. “I had already met Mulder and there were similarities. Tall, dark hair, good looking. Alex wasn’t one of my subordinates at the time – he was at one of the offices at Quantico – so it was safer to play with him. Besides – “ He hesitated.

“You didn’t care for him like you did for Mulder.”

“Yes.”

“Did he know he was a surrogate?”

“Not then. He found out later, though, and threw it back in my face.”

“What was he like to play with?”

“Once we got into play, he was very good – responsive, eager, no emotional triggers that I could see.”

“Once you got into play?”

Skinner nodded. “He always challenged me at the beginning of a session, made me put him into place and prove that I was the Dom. Once I had physically mastered him and put the collar on him he would submit, but not before. He played rougher than some others, but not unusually so. We moved into SM quickly and he was good at surfing the pain.”

“So when did it start to go bad?”

“The last two months.” Skinner was silent for a moment. “The X-Files – Mulder’s department – was closed down for the first time and Mulder was put into the general bullpen. He had just done something phenomenally stupid – chasing a report of UFO contact at a closed SETI site – and had nearly been taken out by the military. It was at the same time that I realized that the Smoking bastard was up to something concerning Mulder.”

“What has that to do with Krycek?”

“Krycek was at the Hoover by then and he met Mulder. The boy’s not stupid, and he was able to put two and two together. I expect that he had been recruited by the Consortium already and he had just figured out one of the reasons. So that weekend I was angry and frustrated, and Alex got right in my face. Taunted me about Mulder, wanting to know if Mulder screamed as good as he did when I fucked him. I lost control and slapped him hard across the face, cutting his lip. I thought he would get angry or try to hit me back, but he just – God, I don’t know how to describe it. He licked the blood off his lip and smiled in a way that was dark and deadly and so incredibly hot…”

Skinner fell silent and Mason let him be for a few minutes, giving him some more water to drink. Then he prodded, “What happened after that?”

“I put him through a regular session but nothing seemed to be working for him, pushing him over that edge. He kept asking for more, so I finally used a single-tip whip on him. That did it – he was off and flying, and when I took him to the bed, he was like an animal. I’d never had sex that intense or that violent. The next morning, we were both sore – I was scratched up and he could hardly walk. I was appalled, but he was more relaxed and pliable than I had ever seen him.”

“And the next weekend he wanted the same?”

“Yes. I tried to go back to the regular games but he wouldn’t cooperate. He kept pushing me to play harder and, since I was trying to meet my sub’s needs…” He looked up at Mason with a half-smile, and the older man cuffed his head.

“Brat. Why didn’t you come to me for advice?”

Skinner hesitated then said, frankly, “By the time I realized that I was over my head and needed help, Sean had been hurt and you were so focused on him that I didn’t have the heart to bother you. I gave Alex an ultimatum – we would go back to the regular games or he could find someone else to play with since we weren’t contracted. He – took it badly, to say the least. He threatened to expose me, pulled out pictures someone had taken of him after one of our sessions. God, Geoff, when I saw what I had done to him, it made me sick to my stomach. I walked out of the suite and the Club and I swore I would never come back.”

“He never carried out his threat?”

“Something happened shortly afterwards and he was discredited, suspected of murdering a man and conspiring in Scully’s abduction. He disappeared, showing up from time to time to cause trouble. Sharon, my ex-wife, and I reconciled – I suppose I was trying to deny what I was and what I wanted. It didn’t work, of course, and here I am, back again.”

Mason sighed. “Walter, I wish that you had come to me at the time. I could have saved you a lot of heartache.”

“You couldn’t change the fact that I lost control. It’s one thing to listen to your sub’s needs and respond to them. It’s another thing to let that sub push you into irresponsible and possibly criminal behavior. Our games were still consensual but they weren't safe or sane. The way we were going, he was going to end up seriously hurt or worse.”

“Well, it does explain why you went overboard the other way with Mulder. What you need to do is find a happy medium. But we'll talk more about that later.” He continued stroking Skinner’s head, noticing that the other man was succumbing to fatigue after his physical and emotional ordeal. “Rest now, my pet.”

Skinner let his eyes drift shut, barely aware of the blanket that Mason pulled over his body to keep him from getting chilled while he slept. The only things that he was conscious of were the ache in his backside and the lightness of his heart.

* * *

On Monday afternoon, Skinner found he was feeling more contented than he had in a long time. He had taken a few days’ vacation to recover from his punishment and trying to get a perspective on the past. Sean’s insight had been as helpful as Mason’s since he could point out Krycek’s motivations from the view of someone who had been there. Skinner had worried that talking about this would bring up unpleasant memories for the younger man, but Sean seemed to have resolved most of his issues regarding his ordeal. That in itself made Skinner feel more hopeful about his own recovery.

Now they were all indulging in a relaxed afternoon. Mason was sitting in his big chair reading the paper while Sean was curled up on the ottoman at Mason’s feet with his Quarterly reports. The television was on although they were only paying desultory attention to the baseball game. Skinner was stretched out on the couch, on his stomach for comfort, reading the paper as well. The ache in his backside had faded to being moderately painful and he knew that within a few days it would be only a slight discomfort, nothing that would interfere with his ability to work. He smiled slightly; Mason was extremely good at his work.

His smile faded as a sudden thought occurred. "What am I going to do about Mulder?"

Both Sean and Mason looked up at his question. Mason folded the paper and set it aside, looking at him directly.

"What do you think you should do? What do you want to do?"

Skinner sighed. "What I _think_ I should do and what I _want_ to do are two separate things. I think that I should punish him: I told him that I would and I need to hold by my word or he won't be able to trust me. I think he expects to be punished, that he wants it. But I also think that he did this just to force my hand, which makes me angry. And it frightens me as well. If he gets what he set out to get, it's like rewarding him for disobeying me. What will he do the next time he wants something I won't give him?"

"You'll have to make sure that there isn't a next time. These demons of Mulder's are very real and they will destroy him if you two don’t find a way to defuse them."

"I don't want to hurt him, Geoff. I couldn’t bear it if he hated or feared me."

“Did I hurt you, Walter?"

Skinner's head jerked up. "What?"

"You heard the question. You lived here with me as my slave for two weeks, and I broke you and made you call me 'master'. You spent a lot of weekends working with me, and we both know you felt my crop and my strap on more than one occasion. I just tanned your hide yesterday. Did I hurt you?"

"I - “ Skinner swallowed hard. "Yes, sir. When you punished me, like you did yesterday, it hurt."

"Which would be why it is called punishment. Did you hate me because of what I did?"

Skinner sighed. "No. I understood the reasons, and the pain doesn’t last. But I don't crave pain, and I think that Mulder might."

"I think that Mulder may crave the _idea_ of pain," Sean said softly. "The idea of atoning for one's sins - real or imagined - can be very appealing. The reality of pain is another matter. And there are levels of pain." He looked over at Skinner seriously. "I've been an SM bottom for almost ten years and you know how heavily I've played in the past. Canes, single tail whips, cats - I can take them all. And I adore spankings. But I'd do just about anything to avoid Geoff's strap on my ass."

"I can certainly understand that," Skinner said feelingly. "So you're saying give Mulder the reality of pain for this little episode and then later show him the erotic side of SM as a comparison?"

Sean grinned at that. "He's so bright, Geoff. No wonder you brag about him."

"Brat," Mason said affectionately. "But he's right, Walter. With a little bit of experimentation, you can give him just the right amount of pain mixed with pleasure to satisfy those demons of his and teach him how to fly. You don't even need to cause any real pain to do that - remember your first time with the suede floggers, Peaches?"

"Mmm," Skinner said, a smile coming to his face at the memory. "You turned me inside out and broke me down."

"And I never broke the skin or even bruised you."

"So we could continue to play D/s games for the most part," Skinner said thoughtfully. "Then switch to mild SM when he needs to escape from himself, when he needs the pain."

"Exactly. You may never need to whip him again, Walter - he seems to respond to your normal methods as long as his needs are being met. But it could always be held in reserve."

Skinner nodded, then sighed. "What about his dropping into sub behavior at home?"

"That's something you two will need to talk about. And I think that - as long as you are paying attention to his other signals - he won't resort to that. You could also use that as a reward/penalty system. If he tells you when he needs the rougher play he gets the reward, and if he tries to manipulate you instead he gets the punishment. You could even use some kind of signal that it's time to visit the Club for fun and games - his collar or paddle laid out on the bed, for example."

"Speaking of games," Sean said, "I think that Mulder would really like to play games at home - and I'm not talking about the Dom/sub Club games. I'm talking about fantasy games. I think that's what he was trying to tell you on your birthday."

Skinner frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't do the Master/Slave thing at the Club, so I don't think he was reverting. He seems to have gone to a lot of trouble to set up a fantasy image that he thought might interest you - pretending to be a pleasure slave sent to you as a gift."

"A fantasy?"

"Yeah - you know, bedroom games. Hun and the Nun, Ruthless Pirate and Beautiful Captive, Rent-boy and Client?" At Skinner's stunned look, Sean said in exasperation, "You’ve never played sex games? Not even when you were married?"

Skinner flushed. "Um - Sharon was very conservative. I tried something once but - " He shrugged.

Sean sighed dramatically. "Try it again with Mulder and I bet you'd get a different response. And I bet he has a _great_ imagination."

Skinner grinned. "Yeah. Although he'd probably be more interested in playing Alien and Abductee - especially when it comes to anal probing."

Sean fell over, whooping with laughter, and Mason smiled. "Do you have a problem with playing that kind of game at home?"

"No," Skinner said slowly, thinking it over. "As long as it's just a game to have fun and get off - and either of us can be the bottom." His eyes glinted. "In fact, that could be a _lot_ of fun and I have an idea - "

"Shh!" Sean said suddenly, turning to the television and raising the volume. Both of the older men stopped talking, turning to see what had caught Sean's attention, and saw that a Special Reports Bulletin had appeared on the screen.

"We interrupt this broadcast to report that an office building in the Dallas area has been the target of what appears to be an act of domestic terrorism. FBI officials on the scene report that, following a phoned in threat, a bomb was discovered and the building was evacuated just minutes before it exploded. There is one known fatality, that of the agent in charge who was attempting to defuse the bomb at the time of its explosion. At present, no more is known although it is believed that the original target was the Federal building across the street. We will continue to report information as it becomes available. Once again, a bomb has leveled an office building in Dallas, Texas, with one known death."

For a moment, the three men stared at each other. Then Skinner was off the couch and heading towards the bedroom and his cell phone just moments before it began ringing.


	39. Facing the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully get caught up in global events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Big time for the movie “Fight the Future” – if you didn’t see it, you should still get enough in here for this chapter to make sense. I freely adapted small parts of the movie to make sense in my corner of the universe and corrected a little error CC made in the film - August may be summer and daylight here in the Northern hemisphere, but in Antarctica it's winter which means no bright, sunny days.
> 
> Author’s Notes: A bit of a departure from the usual (is there a usual for this series?) but part of the air that needs to be cleared before we get back to normal. Whatever that is. FYI, I have included a translation of the phrases and words from Scully’s second “alien encounter” at the end of the chapter, courtesy of my subbie friend Eric. For my readers from Oz, if I got them wrong it was either because a) I was laughing too hard to hear correctly or b) Eric’s become corrupted from too many years living in the USA's Deep South – at least I didn’t write “G’Day, y’all!" Information on Australia's presence in Antarctica comes from the ANARE website at http://www.antdiv.gov.au/maps/index.html. 
> 
> Chapter quote comes from “Closing Time” by Semisonic.

_Closing time,  
one last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer. _   
_Closing time,  
you don't have to go home but you can't stay here._   
  
_Closing time -_   
_Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end._

 

 

Mulder sat on a bar stool and contemplated his fifth shot glass. It had been a lousy day. Hell, it had been a lousy couple of days. First, sent to Dallas to help with a domestic terrorism threat when he and Skinner were in the middle of their own domestic crisis. Then the actual threat had been received on Monday and teams had swarmed over the targeted building. Mulder, however, had gotten a funny feeling about the whole thing and, playing a hunch, had checked out the building across the street with his partner. And, as luck would have it, his hunch had been right and he had come face to face with the bomb in a vending machine. A bomb that had leveled an office building and just missed taking out over a hundred lives with it. Ironically enough, now he and his partner were being torn apart and raked over the proverbial OPR coals for their failure to save five lives - that of Special-Agent-in-Charge Michaud who had been killed while diffusing the bomb, three fireman, and one boy. And what the hell they were doing in that building after it was _supposed_ to be cleared was beyond him.

He sighed; whoever said that no good deed goes unpunished certainly had that right.

Mulder held the glass against his temple, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the world around him. Not that there was much to ignore - Casey's was nearly empty at this hour on a Tuesday night. There were two or three other patrons and somewhere in the background music was playing, something that he vaguely recognized. He tossed off the drink and set the glass down, knocking over a couple of the other glasses.

"Whoa!" the bartender said with a smile and a slight laugh. "You gotta train for that kind of heavy lifting. Bad day?"

Mulder gestured for another drink and felt her eyes on him as she poured it. _Here it comes_ , he thought sardonically, _bartender psychology_.

"So, what do you do?" she asked, setting the drink in front of him.

Mulder snorted. "What do I do? I'm the key figure in an ongoing government charade, a plot to conceal the truth about the existence of extraterrestrials. It’s a global conspiracy, actually, with key players at the highest levels of power and it reaches down into the lives of every man, woman and child on this planet." He laughed bitterly. "So, of course, no one believes me."

A picture of Skinner sitting at the table during the OPR review, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, looking anywhere but at Mulder, seared its way into his brain and his lip twisted in a parody of a smile.

"I'm an annoyance to my superiors, a joke to my peers. They call me 'Spooky'. Spooky Mulder, whose sister was abducted by aliens when he was just a kid and who now chases after little green men with a badge and a gun, shouting to the heavens or anyone else who'll listen that the fix is in, that the sky is falling. And when it hits it's gonna be the shit storm of all time."

He could feel the bartender's eyes on him, assessing him, and she picked up the glass she had just poured, dumping it into the sink.

"Well, I would say that just about does it, Spooky." He looked at her inquiringly and she said, "Looks like eighty-six is your lucky number."

Mulder started to argue with her but the look in her eyes was firm so he just sighed and pulled out his wallet, paying his tab. He had been there since late afternoon and supposed that it was time to go home. He grimaced at that,  Home was hardly the cold, empty apartment where he lived. Home was with a special person, being held close in his loving arms, safe against the demons without and within. And right now he was homeless.

"You know," he said softly, "one is the loneliest number." The bartender just shook her head and he stood up unsteadily, intent on two things - finding the bathroom and then a cab to take him back to his lonely bed.

Which is why no one was more surprised than Mulder to find himself, a half-hour later, pounding on his partner's door with the first excitement about his quest that he had felt in a long, long time.

* * *

Mulder sat in his apartment, looking at a photo album from his childhood. It had been a long time since he had pulled out this album although he had had occasional thoughts about showing it to Skinner, especially when Anne Skinner pulled out the old albums and embarrassed her son by showing his lover the pictures of him as a child. But today he wasn't looking at the evidence of birthdays and family celebrations from his childhood before it ended so abruptly. He was looking for evidence that Dr. Alvin Kurtzweil was who he said he was - a friend of his father, someone who knew about the aliens and the Consortium, not just some crack-pot doom-writer. And there it was - at a barbecue with a number of his father's colleagues. There was the smoking man and there was Kurtzweil. The man hadn't been lying - well, not about this, at any rate.

There was a knock on the door and he looked up to see Scully standing in the open door of his apartment. Scully had been scheduled for a private meeting with OPR this afternoon, and the look on her face told him that the news was bad.

"What's wrong?"

"Salt Lake City, Utah," she said softly. "Transfer effective immediately."

Mulder sat down, stunned. He had hoped, had thought that perhaps their latest findings - the crops in Texas, the bees, the strange virus in the tissues of the dead firemen and the ancient fossils - would give them a chance to remain together, to reopen the X-Files. All his hopes now crumbled like ashes.

"I already gave Skinner my letter of resignation."

His head snapped up. "You can't quit now, Scully."

Scully sighed. "I can, Mulder. I'm not leaving DC, and I can't stay in the Bureau, not after this. I debated whether to tell you now, knowing you would feel like this- "

He stood, agitated, knowing that if he let Scully do this that it would be the end of their partnership. It went beyond their "official" partnership, beyond what the bastards in the suits could do to them. It went deeper, to the connection between them that had already survived so much. That wouldn't survive this severing. "We're close to something here. We're on the verge - "

" _You're_ on the verge, Mulder." She drew a deep breath, looking away. "Please - don't do this to me."

He wasn't above pleading. "After what you saw last night. After all you've seen, Scully. You can't just walk away."

"I have. I did. It's done."

He shook his head, stunned. "Just like that?"

Scully squared her shoulders, her face determined. "I'm contacting the state board Monday to file my medical reinstatement papers. I've - thought about going into research. Maybe I can help Sean - "

"But _I_ need you on this, Scully!"

She shook her head. "You don't need me, Mulder. You never have. I've just held you back." Tears stung in her eyes and she turned blindly towards the door. "I've got to go."

Mulder ran after her, catching her before she reached the elevator. "You want to tell yourself that so you can quit with a clear conscious you can, but you're wrong."

She turned on him, fiercely. "Why did they assign me to you in the first place, Mulder? To debunk your work. To rein you in. To shut you down."

He shook his head. "But you've saved me, Scully. As difficult and frustrating as it's been sometimes, your God-damned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over. You - you've kept me honest. You made me a whole person. I owe you everything, and you - you owe me nothing." He bowed his head, his heart aching at this newest loss, and whispered, "I don't know if I want to do this alone. I don't even know if I can. And if I quit now they win."

Scully stared back at him, at the aching loss in his vulnerable face, and all of her protective instincts flared. He had lost so much over these past weeks - the X-Files, their office, Skinner - and somehow she just couldn't bear to see him hurt any more. She drew in a deep breath and hugged him, feeling his arms go around her in relief. Gently, she kissed his forehead, trying to silently express the assurance that she would be there for him always, no matter what happened in their professional lives.

They stood there for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, each trying to give strength and reassurance to the other before Mulder finally pulled his head back so that he could study his partner's face. What he saw there reassured him and he smiled slightly, leaning forward to return her comforting kiss.

"Ouch!" Scully pulled away from Mulder, rubbing her neck, and Mulder thought that he had accidentally pinched her neck. "No - something stung me."

Mulder pulled out a bee and rubbed the spot on the back of her neck. "Must have gotten in your shirt."

"Something's wrong," Scully said, reaching out for him as she felt suddenly weak. She slumped into his arms and he caught her, easing her towards the floor. "I'm having - lacerating pain - my chest. My - motor functions are being affected." Mulder cradled her on the floor. "Pulse feels thready and - I've got a funny taste in the back of my throat."

"I think you're going into anaphylaxis - " Mulder raced for the phone and dialed 911. "This is Special Agent Fox Mulder. I have an emergency. I have an agent down."

Within minutes, the ambulance arrived and Mulder followed the paramedics as they carried Scully down to the waiting vehicle, talking. "She said that she had a funny taste in the back of her throat," he said in concern, "but there was no pre-existing allergy to beestings. The bee that stung her may have been carrying a virus-"

The paramedic stared at him in disbelief. "A virus?" He turned back to his partner as they prepped Scully for transfer and loaded her into the back of the van but before Mulder could climb aboard, the doors closed in his face.

"Hey!" he protested, "what hospital are you taking her to?" They ignored him and he ran to the driver's side, knocking on the window. "What hospital are you taking her to?"

He saw the driver then, got a really good look at him. It was the same man he had seen coming out of the vending room in Dallas just days before, the same man he had seen watching Kurtzweil. Before he could react, the man was aiming a handgun at him. Mulder blinked and pulled back, then heard a deafening sound and felt red-hot fire along his temple. He fell to the ground as the world went black.

* * *

The world was still black but it was become less so when he managed to blink his eyes open again. Sounds of an argument in the background made his throbbing head ache and he winced, groaning.

"He's coming to - "

"Mulder?"

He blinked his eyes and stared up at three familiar faces. "Oh, God," he muttered. The three men exchanged anxious looks and he couldn't resist the urge to tease them. "Cowardly Lion. Scarecrow. Toto." His friends exchanged exasperated looks and he struggled to sit up. "What am I doing here?"

"You were shot," Byers said. "The bullet grazed the brow and glanced off your temporal plate."

Mulder fingered the bandage while Langly added, "Three centimeters to the left and we'd all be playing harps."

"You've been unconscious since they brought you in twenty hours ago," Byers added.

"Your guy Skinner's been with you around the clock," Frohike added, meaningfully, and Mulder felt his eyes widen at that even as he automatically glanced around the room in search of the AD. Then he remembered.

"Where's Scully!"

"We put together that you called 911 but that call must have been intercepted," Byers said.

Frohike held up a vial containing a bee. "Scully had a reaction to an Africanized honey-bee we found in your hall."

"I've got to get to her - " Mulder pushed off the covers, swinging his legs over the side as he shakily sat up.

As he did so, the door opened and Skinner came in, frowning as he saw the younger man trying to get out of bed. "Easy, easy. Mulder, you're staying right here."

Mulder looked up at the sound of the familiar growl, looked into eyes that were warm and concerned. He swallowed hard. "You don't understand. This goes right back to Dallas."

Skinner held Mulder up, keeping the other man from collapsing onto the floor. There were so many things that he wanted to say to the younger man, so much to explain, and more than anything he wanted to pull Mulder into his arms and kiss him into insensibility. But now was not the time and - with those three friends of his looking on avidly - this was definitely not the place. He drew a deep breath, contenting himself with placing a hand on Mulder's arm to keep him from getting off the bed.

"Tell me where she is and I'll find her."

Mulder snapped, exasperated, "I don't _know_ where she is but I can think of someone who might."

Skinner wouldn't let him go. "If you leave here unprotected, how far will you get. How far will they _let_ you get because they'll know the minute you walk out of here?"

Mulder looked at him and felt his heart begin to pound at the look in the deep brown eyes staring down into his. There was the same expression in them that he had seen in Skinner's eyes when the two of them had stood in the hallway outside the OPR meeting room. Mulder had thought it was nothing more than pity or sympathy, but now he had the feeling that it was something more. Something deeper. Hope flared in him; ruthlessly, he squashed it down. Now was not the time.

In the background, his three friends exchanged a look. "What can we do?" Langly asked.

Mulder looked at them briefly. "You can strip Byers naked." At their shocked look, he grinned and pulled off his head bandage. "I need his clothes."

A short time later, Mulder - dressed as Byers - left the room flanked by the other two and moved down the hallway away from the man watching them and the room with suspicious eyes.

* * *

Kryeck came out of the bathroom of the DC home of his master, a towel wrapped around his waist as he dried his hair with another. He stared at his mentor, his owner, in surprise - just a short time ago he had left the older man dozing in the bed following an invigorating session and now he was almost completely dressed.

"Are you going out, sir?"

The Englishman nodded as he finished arranging his tie. "I've been asked to take care of Kurtzweil."

Krycek dropped the towels on the bed and headed towards his little room off the master bedroom. "I'll be dressed in just a few minutes."

"You're not going with me, Alex."

Krycek turned, frowning at the flat tones in his master's voice. "I don't understand."

"They've sent a driver to 'assist' me," the Englishman said dryly.

Krycek drew in a deep breath, his eyes narrowing in thought. "I can take him."

The older man shook his head, crossing to the wall safe. "No. The game is in play but the rules have changed. They've taken Mulder's partner again, to someplace in Antarctica. And it seems that the Aliens have been playing us for fools all along. They don't want us for slave labor - they want us for hosts."

Krycek's eyes widened. "Did anyone else know about that?"

"I suspect that our smoking friend has been involved in this part of the plan for some while now. Strughold may have known as well. The others - they were just as shocked as I." He took out a small pouch and looked over at Krycek. "I'm going to meet with Mulder, give him this. He's our only hope now."

"They'll kill you," Krycek said flatly.

"They'll _try_." He took out another packet, staring at it for a long moment before he decisively shut and locked the safe. Then he turned to face the younger man, saying in tones that brooked no argument, "I want you to pack. Take only what you need for the immediate future but leave nothing you value behind. Go to the safe house and wait to hear from me. If I don’t contact you within twenty-four hours, you may assume the worst and open this." He held out the packet.

Krycek took the packet cautiously, his natural suspicion rising. "What's in it?"

"Information - a sort of insurance policy. I've left detailed instructions as to the use of this information, and I expect you to follow them to the letter, no matter what. Am I understood, Alex?"

"Yes, sir," Krycek said automatically.

"You'll also find that I've made certain - provisions. They should be enough to keep you out of trouble for the present." He touched Krycek's face with more gentleness than usual, an act that made Krycek realize just how serious this was. "Take care of yourself, Alex. They will be after you as well."

Krycek covered the other man's hand with his own, saying urgently. "Let me come with you. We can take care of the driver, get out of town - "

"And have them kill my family in retaliation? No, Alex. I will do what I must to keep my family safe." He held Krycek's chin in a firm grip, forcing the glittering green eyes to meet his. "It is far too late for me, my boy, but I will not let innocents suffer. Not if I can stop it." He released Krycek's chin saying, briskly, "Be gone within the hour, understand?"

Krycek nodded, watching silently as the other man put on his overcoat and left. It wasn't until he heard the front door slam that he realized that silent tears were etching their way down his cheeks.

* * *

Mulder raced through Casey's, frantically searching for Kurtzweil. The man had promised to meet him here but there was no sign of him. He went out through the back, into the alley where they had first talked, and came to an abrupt halt at the sign of a Towncar blocking the entrance to the alley. A familiar, elegantly dressed man was standing beside the car. Involuntarily, his eyes jerked towards the driver but it wasn't Krycek this time, just some unfamiliar flunky.

"Mr. Mulder," the Englishman said evenly.

"What happened to Kurtzweil?"

The man shrugged. "He's come and gone."

Mulder took a step towards him, angry. "I want to know where Scully is."

The man nodded and pulled out a pouch that looked black or dark green in the light. "The location of Agent Scully, and the means to save her life." He gestured towards the car. "Please."

Reluctantly, Mulder got into the car and the Englishman joined him. Wordlessly, the man handed Mulder the pouch.

"What is it?"

"A weak vaccine against the virus Agent Scully has been infected with. It must be administered within ninety-six hours. That leaves you little time to reach those coordinates."

Mulder opened the packet and studied the syringe, ampoule and a note with a location in longitude and latitude. "You're lying."

"No." The man stared out one of the windows. "Though I have no means to prove otherwise. The virus is extraterrestrial. We know very little about it except that it is the original inhabitant of this planet."

Mulder looked at him in disbelief. "A virus?"

"What is a virus but a colonizing force that cannot be defeated, living in a cave underground until it mutates - and attacks."

Mulder was disgusted. "This is what you've been conspiring to conceal? A disease?"

"No, for God's sake, you've got it all backwards!" the man said impatiently. "AIDS, the Ebola virus - on an evolutionary scale, they are newborns. This virus walked the planet long before the dinosaurs."

"What do you mean - walked?"

"Your aliens, Agent Mulder. Your little green men arrived here millions of years ago. Those that didn't leave have been lying dormant underground since the last Ice Age, in the form of an evolved pathogen. Waiting to be reconstituted by the alien race when it comes to colonize the planet, using us as hosts. Against this we have no defense. Nothing but a weak vaccine."

He paused and looked at Mulder. "Do you see why it was kept secret, Mulder? Why even the best men - men like your father - could not let the truth be known? Until Dallas, we believed that the virus would simply control us. That mass infection would make us a slave race." The Englishman looked grim. "Imagine our surprise when they began to gestate. My group has been working cooperatively with the alien colonists, facilitating programs like the one you saw. To give us access to the virus, in hope that we might secretly develop a cure."

"To save your own asses," Mulder said bitterly.

The man shrugged. "Survival is the ultimate ideology. Your father wisely refused to believe this."

"My father sacrificed my sister! He let them take Samantha - "

For a moment, the man looked sad as if reflecting on his own choices. "Without a vaccination, the only survivors of the holocaust would be those immune to it - human/alien clones. He allowed your sister to be abducted, to be taken to a cloning program. For one reason."

"So she'd survive," Mulder said in sudden understanding. "As a genetic hybrid."

The other man nodded. "Your father chose hope over selfishness. Hope in the only future he had - his children. His hope for _you_ was that you would uncover the truth about the Project. That you would do everything you could to stop it. That you would fight the future."

They were silent for a long moment then Mulder turned to the other man. "Why are you telling me this?"

The man sighed. "For the sake of those I hold dear. Once it's learned what I've told you, my life will be over." He glanced up significantly, and Mulder caught sight of the driver watching them in the rear-view mirror.

Unexpectedly, the Englishman lifted Mulder's right hand and noted the bare wrist. He looked at Mulder inquiringly. Mulder was reluctant to tell this man that he was no longer with Skinner, although he had no idea why.

"I left it at the hospital - I didn't exactly wait to be discharged." He didn't mention that it was Mason's bracelet that the hospital had.

"You should retrieve it as soon as possible and do not take it off again. His protection is the only thing that keeps you out of their hands. Some of them would like nothing better than to see you broken. Or dead."

Mulder's heart began to pound. "Where's Dr. Kurtzweil? I'd like to get out of the car now." The other man just stared and Mulder yelled, "Stop the car."

The older man sighed and called out, "Driver!"

Slowly, the limo turned into a deserted side street and stopped. Mulder tried to open his door but it was locked. He turned back to face his captor and his eyes widened as he saw a gun in the man's hand.

"The men I work with will stop at nothing to clear the way for what they believe is their stake in the future," the man said. "I was ordered to kill Dr. Kurtzweil. As I was ordered to kill you."

Mulder's breath caught but before he could cry out or protest, the man turned and shot the driver in the head. Blood spattered everywhere. Mulder gasped, stunned, and stared in horror at the man holding the gun.

"Trust no one, Mr. Mulder." He got out of the car and gestured for Mulder to get out as well. "Get out of the car."

"Why?" Mulder said, trying to control the panic sweeping over him. "The upholstery is already ruined."

"Get out of the car."

Mulder knew that tone of voice. He had heard it often enough from both Skinner and Mason and, without thinking, he found his body obeying.

"You have precious little time," the man said grimly. "What I've given you - the alien colonists don't know it exists - yet. The vaccine you hold is the only defense against the virus. Its introduction into an alien environment may have the power to destroy the delicate plans we've so assiduously protected for the last fifty years."

Mulder was suddenly tired of being jerked around. "What do you mean, _may have_?"

The Englishman shook his head. "Find Agent Scully. Only then will you realize the scope and grandeur of the Project." Mulder stared at him, waiting for more, but the other man seemed to be finished. He pointed the gun at Mulder and said, "Go. Go _now_."

Again that command voice, and Mulder turned and began moving down the alley away from the car. Behind him, he heard a door slam and then the night exploded into noise and flame.

The impact knocked Mulder to the ground and he struggled to his feet, clutching the pouch in his hand, staring in disbelief at the blazing car. The impact of everything he had just learned, the danger of his knowledge, was suddenly terrifying. He began to run, heading towards the only source of help that he knew he could count on. And as he ran, he wondered if the Gunmen had any connections in Antarctica…

* * *

Scully sat in a vast white wilderness, cradling her partner closer as she tried to share her warmth with the unconscious man, and swore under her breath. She had no idea where they were except that it was cold and dark and Mulder had given her his external weather clothes. She didn’t know if he had a transport vehicle nearby or if it had been lost in the massive cave-in. And she was still struggling to comprehend the hazy images in her head – tanks of strange looking creatures and that final, fantastic image of the strange craft disappearing against the twilight sky above them. Even now, she wasn’t sure that she was ready to admit the possibility of it being an alien spaceship although she had no doubt that Mulder would claim it was. But right now that was the least of her worries. Without shelter, neither of them was going to last long enough to even begin that argument.

The sound of a motor echoed across the open waste and Scully’s head snapped up as she looked around for the source. Lights blazed through the perpetual twilight and then a small four-wheeled vehicle crested the hill and raced towards them, pulling to a stop a few feet away.

“G’Day, mate,” the young man driving it said with a cheerful grin. “A mite bit nippy for a jolly, eh? Would you or the bloke taking a rest be Mulder?” Scully nodded, pointing at her partner, and the man pulled out a radio. “Base, this is SAR3. Found them just where the Pom said – Mulder and a Sheila.” He listened for a minute. “Will do. Out.”

He got off the quad, pulling out a couple of packs as he said, “You’re not exactly dressed for the back of Bourke but we’ll have you warm as toast in two ticks.”

“Where – where are we?” Scully asked in a hoarse voice. The man looked at her in surprise as he handed her a pack and she said, “The last I remember I was in Washington, D.C.”

“Well, you _are_ a long way from home, love,” the young man said as he efficiently set about wrapping Mulder up in artic weather gear. “Antarctica, to be exact. I’m with ANARE out of Casey Station, and we’ve been looking for you since Mr. Mulder went walkabout two days ago. Anyone tell this galah that visiting here in the dead of winter ain't very bright?”

“No one tells Mulder much of anything,” Scully said dryly.

“Like that, is he? I take it you’re not his wife, then?”

“Hardly. Agent Dana Scully, FBI. He’s my partner, Agent Mulder.” At the man’s skeptical look, she said, “I’d show you my badge, but I seem to have misplaced it.”

The young man laughed. “You’ll be all right, Sheila – sorry, Agent Scully. And it looks like Mulder is comin’ round. In good time, too. Here comes the Squirrel.” He squinted up at the sky at the sound of a helicopter. “You’ll be at Davis station in no time, what we here call the Riviera of the South. No mackers, but the slushy’ll see you’re fixed up with a hot and a cot.”

The helicopter landed and a figure tumbled out of it, ducking under the blades as he ran over to them. "Agent Scully?" he asked anxiously and, as she nodded, blew out a relieved breath. "Thank God! When Mr. Matthews said we'd find you on the Ross Ice Shelf but he didn't want anyone out of Little America knowing, I wondered - " He broke off, staring at the gaping hole that plunged into blackness behind them. "What in Hell happened here?"

Scully smiled briefly through cracked lips and said hoarsely, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The two men exchanged looks and then the new arrival said, "Let's get your friend on board."

Despite his exhaustion, Mulder was aware of voices and someone pulling him away from his partner, and he was suddenly afraid that the Consortium had found them. He blinked open his eyes and found an unfamiliar man leaning over him. “Scully?”

“She’s fine, Mr. Mulder,” said a soothing voice and then she was peering over the man’s shoulder, smiling at him.

“I’m okay, Mulder. They need to put us on the helicopter and take us to their base for medical attention.”

“Who’re you?” he asked suspiciously, making himself a deadweight to keep from being lifted into the helicopter.  
  
“Timothy Brown - I’m with ANARE,” he said helpfully. “Mr. Matthews asked us to help with Search and Rescue when you disappeared in this area.”

“Sean? How?” Mulder let his head fall back weakly. The strain of two days without sleep, the hurried flight to Antarctica, and his desperate rescue attempt had exhausted his physical resources but he’d die before he let Scully be captured again.

“Mr. Matthews is on the ANARE Board of Directors, head of all our non-government funding. He said to give you two messages. First, you have kangaroos in your top paddock and that the next time you want to see the world, use a better travel agent than those three yobbos.”

Mulder managed a weak laugh and let himself be helped up and into the small helicopter. “Yeah, that’s Sean. And the second message?”

“To get your frozen ass home because there’s someone waiting to warm it up for you.”

Mulder groaned and dropped his aching head into his hands while Scully chuckled. “Go ahead and laugh – Mason’s going to kill me. I wonder what the job market in Antarctica is like.”

Scully snuggled up against him, letting her eyes drift closed. “I wouldn’t try it. He’d just issue orders to have you boxed up and shipped back.”

“Yeah.” Mulder wrapped his arm around his partner, closed his own eyes and shifted so that his head rested on top of Scully’s. A contented smile crossed his face. His partner was alive, they were safe and on their way home. He knew a portion of the Consortium plans. He had seen proof that aliens existed and, what was more, Scully had seen it as well. And last but not least, the way Skinner had looked at him in the hospital made him hopeful that their problems could be resolved. He fell asleep dreaming of strong arms holding him, keeping him safe as they both faced the future.

* * *

Translation:

G’Day, Mate - hello, friend (if you don’t know that one, you don’t watch enough TV)  
Jolly - Used to refer to any trip away from an Australian Antarctic Base, more particularly trips for rest and recreation.  
Pom – Englishman (and Sean would be miffed to hear himself called that)   
Sheila – female   
Back of Bourke – the sticks, away from civilization   
ANARE - (pronounced an-*ah*-ree) stands for Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions   
Walkabout – an impromptu trip   
Galah – fool; comes from the bird which flies south in the winter even though it’s in the Southern hemisphere.   
Mackers – McDonald’s   
Slushy – a rotating job on station, sort of a combination of Cook and Entertainment committee.   
Kangaroos in (the/your) top paddock – not all there (like one toy short of a Happy Meal)   
Yobbo – uncouth person, nutcase


	40. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner try to get their relationship back on track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Call and Answer" by the BareNaked Ladies

_I think it's getting to the point where I can be myself again._ _  
I think it’s getting to the point where we have almost made amends.  
_ _I think it’s the getting to the point that is the hardest part._ _  
  
You think  
I only think about you when we’re both in the same room_  
_You think  
I’m only here to witness the remains of love exhumed. _ _  
You think we’re here to play a game of who loves more than whom.  
__You think it’s only fair to do what’s best for you and you alone._ _  
You think it’s only fair to do the same to me when you’re not home.  
_   
_I think it’s time to make this something that is more than only fair._

 

Mulder sat on a bench in the Mall, the morning paper on the bench beside him. He had noted with sardonic amusement that the story of the virus was being suppressed in the usual fashion. He was angry, he was disappointed, but he was hardly surprised. Not any more. And he was beginning to think that Scully had the right idea.

Scully. His partner. Right now, she was in another OPR meeting where she would tell them her decision and hand in her resignation. Mulder's turn on the firing line was next, scheduled for Monday, but it didn't take a genius to figure out where he would be going. Violent crimes had been drooling after him for years and they would get him back. It just remained for him to decide whether to take reassignment, to stay in the Bureau and keep fighting, or to give it up. Turn in his resignation like Scully, walk away - and do what?

He sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head up to let the sun wash over his face. Sunlight. Heat. Warmth. He didn't think he would ever get enough of them, still felt the bitter Antarctic cold in his bones. Two days in Davis station had put them on the road to recovery before they had been air lifted to the Icebreaker Aurora Australis for the trip back to Hobart base. A private chopper had whisked them to Sydney and from there a private plane had brought them home, and Mulder hadn't even bothered to question any of the arrangements - which were a hell of a lot more comfortable than the supply aircraft he had caught a lift from on his way down to Antarctica. It was plain that Sean was behind all of it, down to the changes of clothes that were waiting for them and the car that had whisked them to the Hoover building on their return to DC. He had balked at the doorway, though, unable - unwilling - to walk through those doors. The bitter taste of betrayal by the Bureau was still strong and, on a personal level, he was afraid he would run into Skinner in the hallway. His desperate need to talk to the other man - privately - warred with the black despair that was engulfing his soul. Maybe it was better like this, he thought, better to not make the wounds any more painful, especially if he ended up walking away from the Bureau.

He watched Scully walk along the path towards him and, as she stopped in front of him, he handed her the newspaper. "There's an interesting work of fiction on page 24. Mysteriously, our names have been omitted. They're burying this thing, Scully. They're just going to dig a new hole and cover it up." He looked up at her and drew a deep breath. "So - the deed all done?"

Scully looked down at the dejected man. "I didn’t resign. I told OPR everything I know. What I experienced. The virus. How it's been spread by bees from pollen in transgenic crops - "

He squashed down the wave of hope that filled him, standing angrily and walking away from her. "You're wasting your time. They'll never believe you. Not unless the story can be programmed, cataloged or easily referenced."

"Then we'll go over their heads."

He stopped and turned, facing her. "No. How many times have we been here before, Scully? Right here. So close to the truth. And now - with what we've seen and what we know - to be right back at the beginning with _nothing_."

"This is different, Mulder."

"No, it isn't. You were _right_ to want to quit. You're right to want to leave me. You should get as far away from me as you can,” he said bitterly. “I'm _not_ going to watch you die because of some hollow personal cause of mine." He swallowed hard. "Go be a doctor. Go be a doctor while you still can."

Her chin lifted stubbornly. "I can't. I won't. Mulder, I'll be a doctor but my work is here with you now. That virus that I was exposed to - whatever it is - it has a cure. You held it in your hand. How many other lives can we save?" She took his hand and, surprised, he looked down into her face. A fire burned in her eyes, and there was a determination in her face that he hadn't seen in a long time. "And if I quit now - they win."

Her lips curved up into a smile and, involuntarily, he found himself smiling back. Hope began to burn inside him again, a small flicker of light but enough to push back the darkness for now. Despite everything, the Consortium hadn’t been able to destroy them, hadn’t ended their partnership. Instead, they were stronger than ever. His heart suddenly felt lighter than it had in a long time.

She squeezed his hand. "Come on. Someone is waiting to welcome us home."

Mulder glanced up in the direction she indicated and saw a limo waiting at the curb, a familiar shock of red hair standing out against the white background. He grinned and shook his head but followed his partner to the car. Sean maintained his nonchalant sprawl against the car, looking them up and down.

"Well, look what the dingoes dragged in," he drawled. "Have fun on your little trip, children?"

Mulder grinned despite himself. "We had a blast, infant. You should have come along."

Scully glared at him sideways before getting into the limo. "And we appreciate your help in getting back, Sean."

"Yeah," Mulder said, looking intently at Sean. "I take it you got our location from Frohike. Odd that you had contacts in that part of the world."

"Mulder," Scully said warningly but Sean just grinned at him.

"I have a lot of contacts that you'd be surprised to learn about," he said tranquilly, pushing Mulder into the car and following him in. "I've even been on the Aurora once and had a _marvelous_ time - there's something about all those men in uniforms." He collapsed on the seat, fanning himself.

"Don't pull that horny queen act on us, Sean," Mulder said severely. "I doubt you've even _looked_ at another man since Mason."

Sean grinned. "Of course I've _looked_. I'm married, not dead. Besides, Geoff says he doesn't care where I get my appetite, as long as I come home to eat."

Scully laughed and Mulder snorted at that. "You're trying to distract me, Sean, but it won't work. And I'd like to know more about these contacts."

Sean turned his head and met Mulder’s eyes evenly. "I'm not one of _them_ ," he said quietly. "I know about these people you were chasing - enough to know that they are very, very dangerous. They don't like to have their plans messed with and they have...peculiar notions of retribution." Mulder's eyes widened and, when he exchanged a look with Scully, he could see that the same thought had occurred to her. "As for my contacts - my father had a lot of ties in government, and I have heavy investments in many scientific research organizations." Sean's smile was a little bleak. "In my own best interest that is."

"Sean, I didn't mean to imply - " Mulder began.

"Yes, you did," Sean said with an amused look at him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to spit the dummy. With all you've been through, I'm not surprised that you're suspicious. Just don't forget who your friends are, mate."

"I won't," Mulder said sincerely, reaching out to take one of Sean's hands. "I never thanked you and Mason for everything you did for me after - well, you know."

Sean smiled and squeezed his hand. "Funny you should mention that. We had another guest just before you left town, someone who was taking the same pain medication you were on."

Mulder's head snapped up at that and his hand tightened involuntarily. "Mason didn't...hurt him, did he?"

"Depends on your definition of hurt," Sean said succinctly. "From _my_ point of view, the Mountain was sitting entirely too easily afterward but Geoff's always had a soft spot where he's concerned."

A sudden image flashed into Mulder's mind, that of Skinner at the OPR hearing: staring down at the table instead of meeting Mulder's eyes, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his awkward stance in the hallway. A reluctant smile formed on his lips. "I doubt that Walter would agree with that." He pulled his hand away and looked out the window, his stomach tightening anxiously. "Is he - did he - say anything about - me?"

"He wanted to know if you were okay," Sean said softly. "Mulder, sometimes people make mistakes because they care too much, not because they don't care enough. Just remember that."

"Yeah," Mulder said quietly. His eyes fell on his naked right wrist and, absently, he rubbed it. "Mason's going to have my head - I left his bracelet at the hospital." The car pulled up in front of the Club and he drew a deep breath. "Well, time to face the music, I guess." But when he started to follow Sean and Scully out of the limo, he was surprised when Sean put out a hand to stop him.

"This isn't your stop, Mulder," he said with a grin. "The driver has his instructions and nothing you can say or do will influence him."

Mulder glared at Sean. "Kidnapping a Federal Agent is a serious crime."

"Much as I adore a man with handcuffs and would _love_ to play, we don’t have the time for that. So shut up, Mulder, and trust me." Sean blew Mulder a kiss. "Just think of me as your fairy godfather, sending you off to the ball to meet your handsome prince."

Mulder's heart started racing. "Oh, God - Walter - I can't - "

"Yes, you can and you will or I'll kick your ass," Sean said firmly. "You’d be surprised what miracles can happen when you open your eyes and listen with your heart."

Sean shut the door and Mulder felt the car accelerate away from the curb. He looked forward anxiously, trying to see where they were going, but all he could tell was that it was _not_ in the direction of Crystal City. Questioning the driver only got a silent smile so he sagged against the seat cushions and waiting for this trip to be over.

The car turned down a side-street and plunged down into a darkened opening before emerging into the light of a small underground parking area, pulling to a smooth stop. The door opened and Mulder got out, looking around to see that there was no indication of where he was, just an elevator entrance. The driver placed an access card against a reader before handing it to Mulder and he numbly accepted the card. The doorway slid open, revealing an elegantly outfitted elevator and a man dressed with the style and precision of a high-class hotel’s executive staff.

“If you will follow me, sir.”

Mulder entered the elevator, dazed, and the man pressed one of the three buttons on the elevator panel. As the elevator rose smoothly and silently, Mulder looked around him and noted that the elevator with its designer fabric walls and polished brass railings was fancier than most of the hotel rooms he had stayed in – and bigger than some.

“Where am I?” he asked.

The man smiled slightly. “I am not at liberty to say, sir, although I was told to tell you that Mr. Matthews has arranged everything and that discretion will be observed.”

Mulder couldn’t think of anything to say to that. The elevator door opened into a small lobby with only one door, and the concierge indicated the card-key in Mulder's hand.

“This is Mr. Matthews’ private suite. If you have need of anything, day or night, simply pick up the phone and you will be connected with my phone. Have a pleasant stay.”

Mulder nodded, still numbed by events, and opened the door. As it closed silently behind him, he found that he was standing in the living room of what was obviously a luxurious hotel suite. To his right was a cozy sitting area with an unlit fireplace and an intimate dining area. To his left was a set of double doors that undoubtedly led to the bedroom. As he watched with a sort of horrified fascination, one of the doors opened and Skinner came into the main room.

Skinner stopped at the sight of Mulder standing in the entrance to the suite and, for a few minutes, devoured the other man with his eyes. Mulder was showing little residual effects of frostbite from his ordeal but he thought that the younger man looked tired and sad. His heart ached and he longed to fold Mulder into his arms and shield him from the rest of the world, but he restrained the urge. It was too soon and, despite assurances from Mason and Sean, he wasn’t sure if his embrace would be welcomed.

“Hi,” he said quietly, jamming his hands into his pockets before they could betray him by reaching out. “You’re early.”

“Am I?” Mulder thought his words sounded inane, even to himself, but his brain seemed to have short-circuited. Skinner stood there in front of him, dressed in casual clothes without his glasses, and Mulder couldn't believe that he had forgotten how vulnerable and sexy he looked like that. He couldn't think of anything to say as all of his senses were focused on the man before him, trying to read and interpret each movement. “Sean didn’t give me much choice – he shoved me in the car and sent me here. Wherever here is.”

Skinner’s heart sank at that. “Mulder, if – if you don’t want to be here – I’m not going to hold you prisoner – “

“I want to be here,” Mulder said quickly. “I – that is – Sean said we should talk.”

Skinner nodded. “Mason said the same thing – and emphasized it quite forcefully,” he added ruefully.

Mulder swallowed hard. Skinner didn’t want to be there; he was only doing it because Mason had insisted, because he felt responsible for Mulder. He cleared his throat. “He – I asked him not to do that – punish you, I mean – but he wouldn’t listen. I’m – I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Skinner said softly. “Sorry for a lot of things.” Silence fell heavily between them, and Skinner found himself fingering the item in his pocket. He brought it out and stared at it for a long moment before realizing it was the Club bracelet that the hospital had removed when Mulder was admitted. He drew a deep breath and held it out towards Mulder. “Speaking of Mason, you left his bracelet at the hospital when you - checked out. I thought – I thought you might want it back.”

Mulder didn’t reach out for it, looking at the floor as he said quietly, “I’d rather have yours.”

Skinner blinked, not quite sure that he had heard Mulder correctly. “Fox?” he said, tentatively taking a step towards the other man.

In an instant, Mulder was in the older man’s arms, wrapping his arms tightly around Skinner’s body as if trying to absorb him. Skinner clutched Mulder to him, hardly daring to believe that the warmth in his arms was not an illusion. He turned his head to kiss the soft hair on the head pressed tightly against his shoulder.

“God, Mulder,” he muttered hoarsely. “I missed you so much.”

Mulder turned his head, blindly seeking his lover’s mouth. “Me, too."

Skinner groaned and fastened his mouth over Mulder's, demanding entrance. Mulder surrendered to his kisses willingly, his hands feverishly moving over the soft shirt that stood between him and his lover's skin. He jerked the shirt free of Skinner's pants, one hand sliding upward to caress the firmly muscled back while the other plunged into the back of the jeans, pulling Skinner's body closer. He heard Skinner groan again, felt lips move down his throat as hands came up to ruthlessly push his jacket off his shoulders and tear off his tie, and hardly noticed the buttons scattering in different directions as his shirt was pulled open.

They tumbled to the floor, both gasping for breath, and Mulder rolled over on top of the older man, grinding their groins together. He heard Skinner swear and then hands were holding onto him tightly as hips rocked upward, driving Mulder insane with the movement over his painfully clothed groin.

"Walter - stop - wait - " he panted, trying to reach a hand between them to at least free their trapped erections.

"Too late," Skinner groaned, and Mulder felt the man underneath him thrust up hard, felt him shaking. And it had been too long for him and, dammit, he didn't want to come like this, but he'd lost all semblance of control. He felt his own body jerking in a climax rung out of him, a release that was almost painful in its intensity.

He rolled off Skinner and laid on the floor beside him, both men on their backs trying to get their breath back. Mulder felt curiously unsatisfied, as if he'd dined on puff pastries after expecting a full banquet, and he glanced hesitantly at the man beside him.

"That was - " Mulder began then stopped, equally unwilling to lie or to hurt his lover's feelings.

"Yeah. It was - " Skinner hesitated. The last thing that he wanted to do was inflict more damage on Mulder's ego after their time apart, but the encounter had been too hot and fast to satisfy him, and he was uncomfortably aware of the mess in his jeans. On the other hand, he thought ruefully, no one but Mulder had ever been able to make him come like a horny teenager from nothing more than kissing and clothed bodies rubbing together. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

Mulder propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at Skinner. Their eyes met, held, and then Mulder broke into a shit-eating grin. "Bad."

Skinner chuckled again. "Really bad."

"It's been a while. Think we've forgotten how?"

"That's something that you don't forget," Skinner said dryly. "Like riding a bicycle."

"Or falling off a bicycle in my case." He sat up, making a face as he looked down at his ruined suit pants. "Nerves?"

"I'd say we were both a little over-anxious," Skinner admitted. "Why don't you grab a shower while I order room service. Knowing you, I expect you haven't eaten much in the last few days."

Mulder agreed, gathering his scattered jacket as he pushed himself up and went through the bedroom, tossing his jacket onto the bed before heading into the bathroom. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, dumping them into the laundry bin then started the shower. Standing under water as hot as he could take it, he couldn't help the blissful sigh that escaped him. Hot showers were a luxury on Davis station due to fuel restrictions, the shower stalls on the Icebreaker had been small, and they had only had time to change and run to the Hoover building upon landing in DC. He threw his head back and let the water cascade over him, blessing Sean for the apparently inexhaustible supply of hot water.

It was then that it struck him what he had done. He had thrown himself at Skinner, had humped himself all over the man, and had come in his pants like a teenager. After three weeks of separation, he had come apart in only fifteen minutes. He groaned as a wave of embarrassment washed over him. He had intended to stand firm and discuss their relationship before resuming an intimate relationship - and now he had completely blown it. How in hell would Skinner ever take him seriously now? How could he even _face_ Skinner?

Finally, his growling stomach forced him out of the shower and he found a stack of warmed towels waiting for him. He dried off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and went into the bedroom as he toweled his hair. Searching through the drawers to find something to change into, he finally settled on boxers and a robe, belting the latter tightly around himself.

Skinner looked up as he came out and smiled. "I was afraid you drowned in there. Room service will be here in a few minutes."

"Mmm," Mulder muttered, sitting down in the overstuffed chair.

Skinner frowned, recognizing that Mulder had raised his defenses but not quite understanding why. He decided that he needed to repair his own breached defenses before he tried to solve this mystery. "I'll go get a shower myself, then," he said.

Mulder nodded curtly in response and Skinner retreated into the bathroom. When he emerged from the bathroom a little while later, having pulled on a robe like Mulder's, he found that Room service had set up the dining table but Mulder was still barricaded in his chair. Glancing at Mulder warily, he walked over to the table.

"This looks good. Are you hungry?" There was no response from the other man and, exasperated, he threw up his hands. "Look, Mulder, I don't know what I've done now to piss you off, but can we at least talk about it?"

Mulder glared at him. "It's about what happened earlier. I'm not that easy."

Comprehension dawned and Skinner's chin almost dropped. "Mulder, I - " he growled, then stopped and began again, softer. "I'm sorry. I know that you're not. I didn't mean for that to happen - I love you."

"You love fucking me," Mulder retorted. "There _is_ a difference."

"I'm well aware of that," Skinner growled at him, then drew in a deep breath and ran a hand over his head. "Look, Mulder," he said, grabbing hold of his patience once again. "I swear to you that I won't try to seduce you unless you _want_ to be seduced. I'd like us to talk before we do anything else and, since I for one am hungry, I'd like to start talking over dinner. Is that okay?"

Mulder sighed and relaxed his defenses a little. "Okay." He sat down at the table, grabbing the wine bottle and liberally filling their glasses. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Us," Skinner said, sitting across from Mulder and soberly regarding him. "I wasn't sure if there was still an 'us', but what happened earlier makes me think that there is."

"What happened earlier was a mistake," Mulder said shortly. He dropped his head, staring at his plate. "Look, I love you, Walter. I missed you terribly and I want to be together, but we've got some serious problems in our relationship to discuss."

"I agree," Skinner said with a nod, "and I think that we both have made mistakes even if our hearts were in the right place. But nothing is going to be settled if either of us goes into this with an attitude."

Mulder glared at him for a moment but Skinner refused to look away. After a moment, Mulder dropped his head again, then drew a deep breath and looked back up. "Okay," he said quietly. "You're right. I'll try to lose the attitude."

"I'd appreciate that," Skinner said warmly, holding out his hand across the table, invitingly. Mulder sighed and laid his hand on Skinner's. “I love you, too, Fox. I made a lot of stupid mistakes, but I’ll do anything it takes to have you back in my life.”

Mulder felt the last of his anger melt at the sincerity in the other man’s voice. “Damn, Walter. You really know how to knock down a man’s walls, don’t you?”

Skinner smiled ruefully. “I wish, babe.” He squeezed Mulder’s hand and let it go, then picked up his fork. “You talk first. I want to hear what you are having problems with.”

Mulder sighed, propping his head on his hand. “That, for one thing. You don’t even know when you do it – it’s second nature.” At Skinner’s blank look, he said, “You said ‘I want to hear’. What _you_ want. What if I want _you_ to talk first?”

Skinner frowned. “I know I’m a bossy son of a bitch, but I expect you to stand up to me – “ He paused and looked at Mulder ruefully. “I did it again. ‘I expect’.” He sighed. “It’s hard for me to change the habits of a lifetime, Fox, but I’m willing to try. How about if I said I would _like_ you to talk first?”

Mulder nodded. “Acceptable. I feel like I could say ‘no’ or make my own suggestions without sounding like a sulky teenager. And I’ll try to be less sensitive.”

“Okay,” Skinner said then drew a deep breath and picked up his wine glass, draining it. “Damn. Talking about this stuff is even harder than I remember. Not that I ever really talked with Sharon. She used to say the same thing – that I made all the decisions and expected her to follow them like a good little soldier.” He looked at Mulder anxiously. “Fox, what if I’m no damn good at this compromise business?”

Mulder found himself relieved to see Skinner’s usual confidence shaken and reached out to cover the older man’s hand with his own. “It’ll be fine, Walter. I’m just as stubborn as you are, and I don’t intend to let you get away with that silent, macho crap. As long as I know you're not going to throw me out when we disagree.”

Skinner flushed. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I've been beating myself up over that for weeks. First I told you that nothing would make me give up on you, and then I turn around and tell you to leave."

Mulder's eyes studied their joined hands. "It really hurt me, Walter. Makes it hard to trust someone when they say they love you forever."

"I know. I just hope that you'll give me a chance to earn your trust again."

Mulder drew a deep breath. "I guess we both need to work on that. I don't exactly shine in the trustworthiness department. But I promise you, Walter - I won't ever do anything like that again."

"I know."

"And I think that we should make a deal that any time one of us tries to walk out, the other sits on him until he comes to his senses."

“I like the sound of that.” Skinner curled his fingers around Mulder’s hand. “I don’t want to presume anything, but – does that mean that you’re willing to try again?”

“Walter, if I wasn’t willing to try again, I wouldn’t be here,” Mulder pointed out. “We know that we’re hot for each other, we admit that we still love each other. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been pretty damn miserable apart from you.”

“Me, too, babe,” Skinner said softly.

“What we’ve got to work out are the details. Sean says that we should have ground rules for our relationship.”

Skinner nodded. “So did Geoffrey. It feels – strange. Certainly not romantic.”

“I’m not used to the idea, either,” Mulder admitted. “But my past relationships were unqualified disasters so I'm willing to give it a shot. I don't want to lose you, either.” He released Skinner’s hand with a last squeeze and sipped his wine. “So – where do we begin?”

Skinner frowned in thought. “I suppose that we need to look at the main aspects of our relationship. Like sex, communication, domestic arrangements.”

Mulder nodded. "Well, we started on communication already. It drives me crazy when you make the rules without asking me for input. And then you turn around and say that you want us to be equals!"

Skinner sighed. "You've got me there. I guess that I've gotten so used to being the boss that I've forgotten how to be a partner."

"Well, don't look at me! Scully can tell you that I'm a _horrible_ partner." He sighed. "We're in trouble here. We have two strikes against us - we're men and we have a lousy track record. What in hell do we have in our favor?"

"We love each other," Skinner said simply. "You're too tenacious to give up even when the odds are against you and can talk a subject to death. I'm too stubborn to give up and I've got the patience of Job - hell, I've supervised you for six years, remember?"

Mulder grinned. "Well then, I guess we can't lose."

Skinner squeezed his hand. "As long as we don't take each other for granted and we talk through our problems."

"Agreed," Mulder said. "What's next? Sex? From my point of view, that’s always been pretty damn good. I’ve got no complaints. You?”

Skinner shook his head. “I’d like to know that you feel free to top me anytime you want, that you don’t need my permission to take the lead. Equal footing in the bedroom.”

“Or the living room, or the dining room, or the kitchen – “

“You’re insatiable, babe.” A sudden thought occurred to Skinner and he flushed. “Um – Mulder, Sean said something about – that you might want to – um – play games. Not like at the Club, but – um – role-playing.”

Mulder grinned. “Oh, _yeah_. I’ve had this fantasy about you as a fierce barbarian Gladiator and I’m the Roman citizen that just purchased you. Or I’m the dashing pirate who has captured your ship and hold the lives of your crew in my hands.”

Skinner leaned forward, his eyes locking on Mulder’s, and said softly, “Or you’re the exotic pleasure slave sent to me as a present, chained and trained to serve my every whim.”

Mulder’s breath caught and he felt a sudden fire in his belly. “Yes.”

Skinner reached out to caress Mulder’s face gently. “I didn’t realize what a gift you were giving me, and I’m so sorry for the way I reacted. I hope – I’d like to see that pleasure slave again.”

“You will,” Mulder said, breathing heavily. “God, Walter, I want you so bad.”

The need in Mulder’s voice went right to Skinner’s head and he found his hand was shaking. “We should talk. We have so many issues to work out.”

“How many days are we going to be here?” Mulder turned his face, nuzzling Skinner’s hand.

“Three.” Skinner tried not to moan as Mulder nipped his palm. “Fox – stop. I promised I wouldn’t seduce you – “

“You aren’t. _I’m_ seducing _you_. Taking the initiative.” He took Skinner’s hand in his and stood, tugging the older man’s arm gently. “Come to bed, Walter.”

“But our talk – “ Skinner protested feebly, even as he allowed Mulder to lead him into the bedroom.

“We’ll talk more later.” Mulder leaned forward to plant a brief kiss on his lover’s mouth. “We’ve talked about trust, communication, agreed about sex and about game-playing. I think we should celebrate the midpoint, and this is the way I’d like to celebrate.”

His hands unfastened Skinner’s robe and slid underneath, finding that he was naked. "God, Walter. I'd almost forgotten how damned sexy you are."

Abandoning his doubts, Skinner wrapped his arms around Mulder and pulled him hard against his own body. "I haven't forgotten a thing, babe." His kissed Mulder, devouring his mouth, and Mulder responded with equal passion, dueling for possession of the kiss, until they were both breathless and panting. Skinner took advantage of the moment to untie Mulder’s robe, pushing it off and away, then kissed his way down his lover’s chest to his groin. Deft hands stripped away the boxers as he knelt and nuzzled his lover’s lengthening cock before taking it into his mouth.

Mulder groaned and clutched at Skinner’s head, not trying to guide him but just for support. “God, Walter, you’re so damn _good_ at that.” He felt the other man’s laugh vibrate around his cock and looked down. The sight of his lover kneeling in front of him, his open robe splayed out around him, his mouth wrapped around Mulder’s cock was too much.

“Bed. _Now_ ,” he growled. He felt another vibrating chuckle before Skinner released him and stood up. Mulder stripped the robe off his lover and pushed him towards the bed.

Skinner crawled up onto the bed, looking over his shoulder with a grin. “Bossy tonight, aren’t you?”

“Be careful what you ask for,” Mulder reminded him, joining him on the bed and pulling him into a fierce kiss. “I want you so badly. I feel like I’m going to explode before I even get in you.”

“Then do it,” Skinner said, reaching for the lube and condoms on the nightstand. He started to open a packet but Mulder grabbed his hand.

“It’s been a year, and I haven’t had anyone but you. I’m clean, you’re clean.” His eyes were intense, burning into Skinner’s. “I want you bare.”

Skinner’s throat tightened with a sudden wave of lust and all he could do was nod. He dropped the condom packet and picked up the lube, coating his lover’s erection with shaking hands before turning onto his hands and knees. He felt Mulder move in behind him, fingers gently stretching, but it wasn’t enough.

“Now, Mulder,” he growled, pushing back at him. “Need you _now_.”

Mulder chuckled and leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder. “Now who’s being bossy?”

“Damn it, Mulder!”

“All right. How do you want it?”

“Hot and fast,” Skinner panted. “Give it to me hard.” He felt Mulder’s cock press into him, moving with one steady thrust, and groaned. “Yeah – like that – “ Mulder backed out almost completely and then thrust in again, hard, and Skinner gasped. “Yes! God, yes! More!”

Holding onto Skinner’s hips, Mulder began to thrust vigorously into his lover’s body, relishing the moans and gasps from his normally quiet lover. His lover’s body was so tight and so hot, and it had been too long. He reached his hand around to grasp Skinner’s cock, only to have his hand batted away.

“No,” Skinner gasped. “Want to – come in you – “

Mulder groaned at that and lost the last of his control. He slammed into Skinner, coming hard as he cried out his lover’s name. A few more short thrusts and he was spent, collapsing on the broad back under him while he tried to catch his breath. Then, remembering the other man’s words and that Skinner hadn’t come yet, he shakily pulled out and flopped on his back on the bed, spreading his trembling legs. Skinner stroked lube into his lover's loosened passage then lifted Mulder's legs to his shoulders and slid in. Mulder moaned at the sensation of fullness and involuntarily tightened his muscles around the thick cock invading him.

“Don’t!” Skinner gasped. “Can’t – hold it – “

“Don’t want you to,” Mulder replied, trying to push him deeper. “Need you - to finish it.”

Skinner groaned and pulled back, then thrust in again with quick, deep strokes. Mulder threw back his head, panting and crying out with pleasure.

“So good – so good! Need this – need you!”

“Yes!” Skinner growled, thrusting harder and faster. With a final thrust, he exploded into his lover’s body, gasping out his pleasure before collapsing on the warm body under him. He lay there for a long while, panting, waiting for his heart rate to approach normal again, all the while relishing the warm body under him and the strong legs and arms wrapped around him. Finally, with a regretful sigh, he stirred himself enough to withdraw from his lover’s body and collapse beside him on the bed. Mulder rolled over on his side towards him and he mustered enough strength to wrap his arms around the younger man.

Mulder sighed contentedly, snuggling deeper into the other man’s embrace. “Missed this, too,” he said sleepily.

“Mmm,” Skinner replied in agreement, turning his head to kiss Mulder softly. “Sleep. Talk later?” Mulder nodded, already half-asleep and, moments later, Skinner joined him.

* * *

When Skinner woke later, he noticed that Mulder must have awakened at some time earlier as the blankets had been pulled over them. Mulder was now lying on his side with his back to Skinner although he was pressed so tightly against Skinner’s body that they could have been one flesh. His cock stirred slightly at that thought but the rest of his body had other ideas, so he quietly slipped out of bed to use the bathroom and wash up before returning the his lover’s side.

Mulder must have heard or felt him get up because he had turned on his side to face the bathroom and, when Skinner slipped back into bed, sleepily opened his eyes. “What timeizzit?” he mumbled.

“Late. Or early.” Skinner took the younger man back into his arms, settling his head on Skinner’s shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna. Talk.”

His hand involuntarily petted Mulder’s hair, enjoying the silky feeling. “What about?”

“Sex.” He felt the grin against his shoulder.

“You want to talk or are you asking for seconds?”

“Talk now. Seconds later.” Mulder yawned. “Earlier - that was incredible. Best yet.”

Skinner chuckled slightly; it had been good but hardly the best sex they had ever had. "It hasn't been _that_ long."

Mulder grinned sleepily at him. "Never did it without a jacket before. Thanks," he added softly. "We didn't exactly discuss it before - I didn't mean to pressure you."

Skinner kissed Mulder. "You didn't. I wanted it, too."

Mulder was silent for a long time and Skinner wondered if he had fallen asleep when the younger man rolled slightly, propping himself up on Skinner’s chest. “I'm curious about something. You're always on your hands and knees when receiving. Any reason why?”

“Other than the intense sensations, I like the feeling of giving up control. Of you being in charge in our bed.”

“Is that how Mason - ”

“Yes,” Skinner said quietly, his dark eyes studying Mulder’s face. “Does that bother you? That I’ve had male lovers before you?”

“Mason’s more than just an old lover,” Mulder pointed out. “He’s still part of your life, and always will be. I guess – I’m a little envious.”

Skinner was surprised – he had expected to hear that Mulder was jealous but not envious. “Why?”

“I’ve never had someone like that. Someone that important in my life, who stayed friends after the sex was over, that I could turn to no matter what.”

“You’ve got Scully. And _I’ve_ envied you two sometimes.”

Mulder looked surprised. “Why?”

“You’ve got someone to share your work that has guarded your back, someone you work so well that it’s like watching a choreographed scene. You and I will never have any of that.”

Mulder was silent, digesting this thought. “I _am_ jealous – of Krycek.”

“ _Kryeck_? Why in hell would you be jealous of Krycek?”

“Because you gave him something that you won’t give me. I understand your reasons and I won’t ask it of you, but I can’t help being jealous.”

Skinner drew a deep breath. “We need to talk about this. I need to tell you more about Krycek, and we need to talk about what you need from me.”

Mulder sat up and turned, looking down at Skinner in surprise. “Walter?”

“Are you rested enough for this talk now? I expect it’ll be a long and involved one.”

Mulder sighed. "I can't sleep anymore right now, but I don't know if I'm ready for the big talk.”

The younger man looked dejected and Skinner sat up, taking his lover’s chin in his hand. “Mulder, we’ll find a way to give you what you need without destroying either of us. I promise.” He leaned forward to kiss Mulder tenderly. “Now, how about I get room service to come clear out the dinner dishes and bring us coffee and a snack. While they’re doing that, we can take a shower together.” He allowed his mouth to travel along his lover’s jaw line. “I didn’t get my fill of you earlier.”

Mulder smiled. “I like the way you think.” He slid out of bed. “I’ll start the water while you make that call.”

Later, warmed and relaxed from the shower and sated with pleasure, they settled on the couch in their robes. Room service had set out a coffee and dessert tray on the low table, and Skinner lit a fire in the fireplace. From habit or for comfort, they found themselves settling into their usual places, with Skinner stretched out on the couch and Mulder nestled between his legs, his back against Skinner's chest. Mulder turned slightly sideways so he could watch Skinner as he talked, his thirsty soul drinking in the way that the firelight highlighted his lover's strong features.

"I've already told you a little about my time with Krycek, but one of the things you need to know is that I had already met you and felt - strongly attracted. I didn't think that I'd ever be able to play with you, that you would be interested in men or me in particular, and when Krycek approached me, I accepted him as a reasonable substitute. I don't know if he was already working for the Consortium and they set us up, or if he really was an amateur player that they later recruited because of our connection."

"I know you said he got you into heavy play, but did your sessions start out like ours did?"

Skinner smiled down at lover, affectionately stroking his cheek. "They were _nothing_ like our games. From the first time we played together, you surrendered to me willingly and completely. Not because I was stronger or more experienced or because I demanded your surrender, but because you _wanted_ to give yourself to me. That kind of submission is a precious gift, one I had never received before and never expected to get. It's what makes our play so intense, so special."

"And Krycek?"

Skinner sighed. "Alex doesn't surrender easily. Even then he was a fighter, and he would challenge me to master him. He always liked the taste of pain and quickly learned how to surf the pain into pleasure. After he found out about you, it seemed like he couldn't get enough of it. Every session, it took more pain than the last one to bring him off, and he would goad me into giving it to him." Skinner was quiet for a moment. "I didn't really lose control - I became addicted to it. He suffered beautifully, and it was heady being the one controlling his pain."

"So what happened?" Mulder asked softly.

"Sean." Skinner grimaced. "When I saw what had happened to him, it was such a shock. I realized that what I was doing to Alex wasn't safe anymore. I refused to play those games and he tried to blackmail me."

"Big surprise," Mulder said with a snort.

"It was to me," Skinner said heavily. "He had pictures that, to the uninformed, would have made me look like a criminal. Even I was shocked by the evidence of what I had done. He gave me the choice between continuing with him at the Club or flushing my career down the toilet as well as going to prison for assault. I was trying to figure out what to do next when you came into my office and told me how Krycek was involved in Scully's disappearance. When I found out that he had disappeared himself, I didn't know whether to be angry or relieved. I threw myself into my work and swore I would never let that happen again."

"And then I found the Club and screwed up your life."

Skinner pushed Mulder up, sitting up himself so that he could take the other man's shoulders in his hands and look into his face. "You didn't screw up my life. You _gave_ me life. This past year with you, even with all its pain, has been the best I've ever known. These past few weeks without you were hell, and I never want to go through that again."

Mulder's eyes searched his lover's face for the truth and, seeing it there, he relaxed slightly. "When we were lost in Antarctica, when I realized that our transport was gone and we might die, my biggest regret was that I wouldn't have a chance to say good-bye. It seemed really important for some reason, like it would give you some comfort after I was gone."

"I don't want you to say good-bye," Skinner growled, pulling Mulder tight against him. "It wouldn't comfort me in the least, so you better not enact me any death-bed scenes or I'll come after you and kick your ass."

Mulder chuckled and buried his face against Skinner's shoulder. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm in a life-threatening situation."

Skinner snorted. “You are a piece of work, Mulder.”

“Yeah – and you love me in spite of that.”

Skinner released him so that he could see Mulder's face. “Yes, I do. And I don’t intend to lose you again, so watch out, babe.”

Mulder flushed and shifted his eyes away from his lover's face. “Not all of our problems are because of you, Walter. I’m a moody bastard, and I’ve got a hell of a lot of baggage. Sometimes I don’t know why you would want to put up with me.”

“Mulder,” Skinner said. “I meant what I just said. I love you. Warts and all. Demons and all.”

“Shit.” Mulder pushed away from the Skinner, getting up and moving to stand in front of the fireplace. “Mason shouldn’t have said anything about that.”

Skinner followed him, sliding his arms around Mulder’s waist and gently pulled him back against his chest. He was relieved that Mulder didn’t fight him although he felt the other man tense in his arms.

“Mulder,” he said softly, “tell me about the demons.”

“I can’t,” Mulder murmured, his tone flat and bleak. “If you knew – saw – “

“I’d still love you,” Skinner said quietly. “We all have demons, Mulder.”

Mulder gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Yeah, well, mine are really nasty fuckers.”

Skinner felt the shivering in the other man and tightened his hold. “Fox, why don’t you sit down right here in front of the fire and warm up. I’ll grab some cushions and blankets so you'll be comfortable.”

Mulder didn’t reply but he didn’t protest when Skinner released him. Mulder sank down onto the cushions, still hugging himself. Skinner snatched a blanket from the couch to wrap around the other man and settled down next to Mulder. He was startled but pleased when Mulder shifted to lay his head on Skinner’s lap, curling close to him. Gently, Skinner stroked his lover’s back.

"I hate fire," Mulder murmured. "Did you know that? It scares me and fascinates me. One of those love-hate things. The demons are like that."

"What do they look like, Mulder?"

"I don't know." Mulder's voice was low, so low that Skinner could hardly hear him. "I'm afraid to look at them."

"Then how do you know that they are there?"

“I feel them. In here," he gestured to his chest and then to his head. "And here. My heart starts racing and everything gets clear in my head. It's like I can see _everything_ , right through people, and I fucking understand _everything_. Like one of those dreams where you know the meaning of the universe and then you wake up. Only I'm already awake. And I see everyone around me, and they're moving in slow motion and they've got this kind of _haze_ in their eyes, and I know that they can't see what I'm seeing. But it's right there, right in front of their eyes, and it makes me so frustrated that I want to scream."

Skinner continued soothing his troubled lover, suppressing the involuntary shiver that ran down his spine. He remembered times when he had seen Mulder so intently focused and so wound up that he had been sure that the younger man was going to explode. He had seen Mulder's temper erupt, seen him lash out with sarcasm, had sensed something was underneath it but never quite knew what it was. He had long ago accepted this as a quirk of Mulder's unquestionable genius, his ability to put two and two together and come up with the whole mathematics table.

"You _do_ scream," he reminded Mulder lightly. "I've seen seasoned agents pale and lose their lunches when you go off."

"You should talk." He felt rather than heard the faint chuckle. "And I've got an image to preserve. Spooky Mulder, remember."

"So what happens then? The demons don't just quietly go back home to their beds, do they?"

Mulder shivered. "Sometimes they just fade away, if nothing awful happens. You know, on a case or - or something. But sometimes they – overwhelm me, and I have to force them down. Those are the really bad times."

It all clicked in Skinner's mind suddenly, and he suddenly saw the pattern as clearly as he saw the man in front of him. The hyperactivity and sarcasm. The self-destructive habits of excessive exercise and poor digestion. The depression, low self-esteem and lack of focus. Then the periods in between when Mulder was his usual irreverent, irritating, but - for Mulder - normal self before another cycle started.

"Have you experienced this all your life, Mulder? Have you ever talked to a doctor about it?"

Mulder sighed. "It started in my late teens. I talked to a couple doctors and they'd say depression or bipolar disorder or something like that and want to medicate me to the gills, but it just didn't feel _right_. That sounds stupid I know but I just can't explain it any other way."

"It doesn't sound stupid. I trust your instincts." He smiled at Mulder's incredulous look. "Well, I do. Have they gotten worse - these episodes - since Benett?"

Mulder shrugged slightly. "I don't know if that has a direct effect, but yeah, they've been getting worse. Headaches, jitters, the whole bit. And harder to pull out of, to make them go away."

"So you thought if I hurt you that would make them go away?"

"Stupid, I know - "

"Maybe not," Skinner said, thinking hard. Mulder looked up at him and, noting the expression on his face, sat up.

"Walter?"

"What if - " Skinner paused, then shook his head and continued. Considering the strange things he had heard from Mulder over the years, this was pretty tame. "What if these ‘demons’ as you call them are all part of a biological system? We both know that there is something unusual about the way you think, the way you see patterns. What if something triggers a sort of hyperactive mental state that allows you to see the things you do, to see the big picture? A case, some kind of association, whatever. Your brain kicks into overdrive and you can solve all these puzzles, but your mind is working faster than the rest of your body and faster than the rest of us, which would be frustrating to handle. When my aunt had a stroke, her brain was sharp but her body wouldn't respond right, and she used to get so angry that she'd break everything she could get her hands on."

"Okay, so I go into hyperactive and destructive child mode."

"Don't be sarcastic, Mulder. Just listen to me." Skinner drew a deep breath, moving to his next point. "The strain this state puts on your body must be enormous, which explains your digestive and hyperactive problems. Your body is shaking itself apart. At some point, it shuts down the process to protect itself. But your body has gotten accustomed to the adrenaline or chemicals or whatever is generated when you're in this state, so you crash. Anyone else would probably crawl into bed with a box of chocolates and the remote, but not you. Somehow you discovered that endorphins banish that black emptiness after the crash. So you push yourself to run, give your body pain - not because you like the pain but because you're looking for the high afterwards to even out your system."

“Nice theory, Walter, but there’s no way we can prove any of this. I can just see me walking into a doctor’s office and asking him to test me for some kind of biological overdrive. You’d be visiting me at the funny farm on alternate Sundays.”

“We don’t have to prove it – what we need to do is find a way to control it. Although we could always get Scully to take a blood sample when you’re in one of these states and test it.”

“Control it? Walter, I’ve been trying to control it for _years_!”

Skinner shook his head. “No, you’ve been fighting it and letting it control _you_. What if you open yourself up to it instead of wasting your energy resisting?”

Mulder shivered slightly and his eyes met Skinner’s. “It scares the hell out of me, Walter. What if I – lose myself?”

“It scares me, too, pal, but Scully and I will be there to ground you. And I’ll be there afterwards to help you restore your balance.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Mulder asked suspiciously.

Skinner smiled. “By giving you what you need and teaching you to fly.”

Mulder’s eyes widened. “But I thought you couldn’t – “

Skinner laid his fingers over Mulder’s mouth. “I can give you the kind of mild erotic pain that will give you the pleasure you need to take you flying. If you really need me to give you deeper pain, I can do that but I’ll have to find ways to relieve my own guilt over it, and I’ll need a safety net – Sean and Geoff standing by to make sure I don’t go too far.”

Mulder flushed. “You mean that they’d _watch_ while we – um – “

“Only if we need to go that far.” Skinner caressed Mulder’s face. “I think I’ll be able to take care of you alone, but first we’ll need some rules.”

Mulder found himself shivering a little and snuggled closer to his lover. “What kind of rules?” he asked gruffly.

“Ones that we agree on together. What I propose is that we continue playing like we have been – D/s stuff on the weekends at the Club. If you need this additional kind of play, you tell me and I’ll take care of you.”

Mulder flushed. “What if I can’t tell you?”

“Because you don’t know that you need it? Or because you’re too embarrassed to ask for it?”

“Either. Both.”

“In the first case, I’ll be watching you as well and trying to monitor your needs. In the second, you need to learn to get past your embarrassment to ask for what you need, but we can set up certain signals as well.”

“Like the words we use in deeper D/s play? For example, I could call you 'master' instead of 'sir'?”

Skinner nodded. “Plus visual signals. We can use your collar as a signal. When you need this, you can set your collar out, and if I think you need this then I’ll set out your collar.” Mulder looked relieved, and Skinner said, warningly, “Mulder, if I find that you are not facing your needs and communicating with me, that you are relying on me to make this decision all the time, there will be punishment.”

Mulder’s eyes widened. “Punishment?”

“Yes. Just as there will be punishment for breaking the safety rules. Physical punishment.”

Mulder flushed at that. “You mean that you’re going to – to spank me?”

“No. I’m going to take a strap to your ass. It will be painful, not erotic, and I can guarantee that you won’t get off on it.”

“Do I get a choice in this?”

Skinner cupped his lover’s cheek and smiled into the anxious eyes. “Of course. This is still part of the game, Fox, and you always have a choice until the curtain goes up. Once I start the punishment, however, I won’t stop till it’s over.”

Mulder frowned. “But if it’s in my power to stop from getting punished, what’s the point? I can do whatever I want and then just tell you that I want to skip the punishment.”

“In the first place, I know you pretty well, and I know how your conscience works. You crave the closure from accounting for your actions, no matter how unpleasant those consequences are. In the second place, this is only between Kitten and Sir. Any problems or disagreements in our lives outside the Club should be settled between us in other ways.”

“So punishment will be for deliberately not telling you when I need the rougher play, and for breaking our Club rules?” Mulder asked and Skinner nodded. An impish light filled Mulder’s eyes. “And what if you break the rules or fail to meet these needs?”

“Then you report the matter to _my_ keeper. I can assure you that Master Geoffrey is more than able to mete out satisfactory punishment.”

Mulder looked at Skinner soberly. "Are you going to punish me for the strangulation thing? I know it's against the rules, but I was also trying to force your hand."

"Yes, I intend to punish you - for both those things."

"Isn't that counterproductive? I mean, I know me and getting this - what I wanted - might make me deliberately break the rules in future."

"What you _think_ you wanted," Skinner said as he traced Mulder's jaw line with one fingertip. "You were remembering the time I spanked you for leaving the Club and endangering your life, then soothed and fucked you. This will _nothing_ like that. You will know that you've been punished, and it will not be as a prelude for sex. I don't think you'll try to push me into doing this again."

Mulder shuddered but acknowledged internally that he did need the closure. "When will you do it?"

Skinner settled Mulder back down against him. "We'll do it back at the Club, before the weekend is over. But first I want to spend some time here with my lover."

Mulder grinned and rolled over on top of Skinner, straddling him. "Yeah?" he said seductively. "And just what did you have in mind?"

Skinner chuckled. "You are such a slut, babe."

"And you have a problem with that?" Mulder began working his way down Skinner's neck, pushing open the robe so that he could focus his attention on the luscious body under him.

"You hear me complaining?"

"I intend to hear you screaming - my name."

"Awfully sure of yourself, aren't you? What if I want to make _you_ scream?" Skinner flipped them so that he was lying on top. "Several times."

Mulder chuckled and then gasped as Skinner's mouth found the sensitive spot right behind his ear. "Anyone ever tell you that you have an ego problem?"

Skinner grinned down at him. "Something you'd like to discuss, babe? I suppose this could wait till later - "

He started to push himself up but Mulder grabbed him and pulled him back down. "Stop now and I'll find my gun and shoot you."

"I think there's got to be a better way to resolve our domestic disputes."

"There wouldn't _be_ a dispute if you'd get back to what you were just doing."

Skinner chuckled and resumed his nuzzling on Mulder's neck. "You are so pushy. Good thing I _like_ pushy lovers." He pulled back enough to look into Mulder's face. "And I love you."

And the smile that blossomed on his lover's face lit up the room.

* * *

"Now _this_ is the life," Mulder said with a contented sigh, relaxing in the large hot tub off the main room. "Luxurious surroundings, first class room service, incredible sex…"

"Hedonist."

"Guilty as charged. Put on the handcuffs, officer - I'll come quietly."

"You've never come quietly in your life."

"Well, there's always a first time. Besides, you like it when I scream your name. Satisfies that ego of yours."

"There's that subject of egos again. Are you sure that there isn't something that you'd like to discuss?" Mulder gave him a one-finger salute and Skinner chuckled. "Grumpy, babe? Sleeping on the floor didn't agree with you?"

"You are such an asshole. And the sleeping on the floor was okay - it was being pile-driven into it first that destroyed me."

"I didn't hear any complaints at the time. Just a lot of moaning and begging. And the screaming, of course."

"Just wait till I get my strength back. You know what they say about paybacks."

Skinner looked over at his lover, feeling a flood of warmth and affection flow over him. He could hardly believe that Mulder was here with him, that they had managed to salvage their relationship after the pain of the past three weeks. It was almost as if they hadn't happened, that they had skipped over the past few painful months. They hadn't, of course. He knew that the scars were still too new and that they would have to fight the urge to pick at them, to try to fix blame. There were undoubtedly still land mines lying buried under the surface of their reconciliation, waiting to be triggered. It wouldn't be easy, but he was willing to work at it and, for the first time, he was absolutely certain that Mulder was willing to work at it, too. That the younger man was almost ready to talk about long-term commitments.

Skinner reached out to take Mulder's hand and, on impulse, he lifted the hand and kissed it. "Mulder," he said softly.

Mulder opened his eyes and smiled at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Skinner said. "Just - Mulder."

"Oh." Mulder closed his eyes and settled back against the hot tub, a smile on his face as if he understood what Skinner was trying to say. And Skinner thought that he probably did.

* * *

Skinner surveyed the arrangements in the main room with satisfaction. Sean's staff had fallen in with his plans and had really gone all-out for dinner - a gourmet meal, fine wine, candles, music and flowers worthy of the best Hollywood seduction setting. He had sent Mulder to shower and dress while the room was set up, determined to surprise his lover even as he was amused by his own romantic inclinations. It had been years since he had felt this overwhelming desire to thoroughly romance a lover - since the early days of his courtship and marriage - and he suspected that Mulder had never been the subject of such attention.

Mulder's face when he came out of the bedroom confirmed his opinion - the younger man's jaw nearly hit the floor, and then he looked at Skinner in bemused surprise. "Walter, I think we've been the victims of a hit-and-run florist. Not to mention his caterer accomplice."

Skinner chuckled and slid his arms around Mulder's waist, giving him a brief kiss. "You are such a smart-ass. Isn't there a romantic bone somewhere in that body?"

Mulder buried his face against Skinner's shoulder. "Well, I can think of _one_ , but it's pretty overwhelmed at the moment. Walter - "

"Shh," Skinner said softly, kissing Mulder again. "I just wanted to show you how much I love you, and how much I value your love. I intend to wine and dine you, to hold you in my arms and dance with you, and then take you to bed and make love to every inch of your body."

"God, Walter," Mulder moaned. "That romantic bone I mentioned is _definitely_ interested now."

Skinner grinned and released him. "Hold that thought, babe. I'll change and be with you in a few minutes."

He ignored Mulder's groan and closed the bedroom door behind him, swiftly changing before he made changes to the bedroom as well. Their last three intimate encounters, while passionate, had been quick and heated, and he was determined that the next time they got horizontal together, it would be under a more romantic setting. The staff had stripped and remade the bed while Mulder was in the shower, but now Skinner pulled out flowers and candles, distributing them around the room. He pulled the bedcovers to the end of the bed, piling the pillows in the middle and placing a single red rose on top of them.

Leaving the bedroom, he firmly closed the door behind him and found his lover standing at the window, staring out over the city. He moved to stand behind Mulder, wrapping his arms around Mulder's waist and nuzzling his neck.

"Any thoughts worth a penny?"

Mulder smiled slightly, turning his head so that they could kiss. "I guess I'm surprised at the romantic side of the man I love. I suppose I shouldn’t be, with all those flowers you sent after our Club weekends, not to mention our vacation. It's just that it's hard to reconcile this with the stern AD and the masterful Dom."

"You deserve the best, my love," Skinner said softly. "I promised you that I was going to tell you that you were a worthwhile human being a hundred times a day till you believed it. I've fallen down on the job in recent weeks, but I plan to make it up to you. I owe it to you."

Mulder turned in Skinner's arms. "You owe me nothing - "

"I owe you everything. Without you, my life seems to have little joy." He kissed Mulder, long and tender, then steered him towards the table. "Now eat. You're going to need your strength."

Mulder chuckled. "Now _that's_ the Walter I know and love."

They settled companionably at the table, the past two days of talking having cleared the air for the most part. As Skinner poured the wine, he realized that one more subject needed to be discussed but he wasn't exactly sure how to broach it. Finally, over dessert, he decided to tackle it head-on.

"Mulder, I know that I drive you crazy around the apartment. What with the way that I like things done and the fact that it _is_ my place, I know that it's been hard for you to feel at home there. I don’t know what I can do to make you feel more comfortable but I'd like to try. Or maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way – maybe we should spend equal time at your place.”

Mulder grinned. “Walter, the Consortium spies are more comfortable at my place than I am. And that’s not exactly being discreet. Besides, I would have to buy a bed. And rent a storage unit for the stuff I have stored in the bedroom.”

Skinner shook his head in mock disbelief. “Only you, Mulder, would have domestic problems like that.” He sighed. “Well, we’ll have to come up with some sort of solution that'll make you happier. I’d be willing to give you free rein at my place – rearrange, redecorate, whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I have another solution,” Mulder said, trying to ignore the sudden pounding of his heart. He picked up his wine glass then set it down as his hands began shaking. “We could – um – get another place. For both of us. Together.” He looked over at Skinner, noting the stunned expression on the other man’s face. "Walter?"

Skinner closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again. "Fox, are you - are you suggesting that we _really_ move in together?"

"Not if you hate the idea."

"If I - " Skinner couldn't say another word. Quickly, he moved around the table and pulled Mulder up and into his arms, kissing him passionately.

When Mulder was finally released, breathless, he managed a shaky laugh. "I take it that's a yes." If he had any doubts about the idea, they were banished, for the most part, by the smile that lit Skinner's face. So he ignored the slight qualms in his stomach and smiled back. If this made Skinner happy, it was more than worth dealing with his own insecurities and doubts.

He slid back into Skinner's arms and murmured in his ear, "Take me to bed, Walter."

Skinner drew a shaky breath. "What you do to me, Fox - "

"And I intend to keep doing that for the next forty or fifty years." He kissed Skinner briefly.

"Forty or fifty years?" Skinner said with a grin. "I think I can handle that."

Skinner took Mulder's hand and led him into the bedroom. Mulder grinned when he saw the arrangements but he refrained from saying anything as Skinner released him to light the candles. Mulder slowly crossed to the bed, picking up the rose and holding it against his cheek.

"Sap," he said softly as Skinner turned back to him. "You realize that the next time you chew me out in the office, I'll be thinking of you scattering rose petals for me."

Skinner grinned. "You want rose petals? I can do that. I can do anything for you, Fox, as long as you never leave me again."

Mulder touched his face tenderly. "I can't promise that. But I can promise that I won't willingly leave you."

"Then that'll have to do."

Skinner pulled his lover into his arms, kissing him deeply, and slid his hands under Mulder's shirt to caress his skin. Mulder groaned under the double assault of the kisses and caresses, and wrapped his arms tightly around the older man, pulling him closer. Skinner eased his way out of the kiss, his lips moving across Mulder's cheek and along his jaw line. Mulder turned his head, blindly seeking his kiss again.

"Easy, babe," Skinner murmured. "I want to make love to you all night long, slowly. Okay?"

Mulder's eyes were glazed and he swayed slightly on his feet. "Okay," he breathed.

"Good." His hands pulled Mulder's shirt free of his pants, tugging it up and over the younger man's head. His hands trailed over Mulder's skin, exploring it as if for the first time, and Mulder trembled under the gentle caresses. "God, you are so beautiful." His hands slipped under the waistband of Mulder's pants and he grinned. "No underwear, Fox?"

"Waste of time," Mulder gasped. "Considering that I don't get to wear them long."

Skinner chuckled. "Maybe I should encourage this habit. I definitely like the accessibility." His hands caressed the skin on Mulder's hips before sliding forward to touch Mulder's already erect cock. "Is this for me?"

"Always," Mulder said softly. "And only for you."

The words and the look in Mulder's eyes went straight to Skinner's own cock, and he leaned forward to possess Mulder's mouth again. Mulder returned his kisses hungrily, and it took all his concentration to keep from just throwing the younger man down on the bed and fucking him senselessly. With effort, he withdrew from the kiss, remembering what he wanted to do to his lover.

His hands were only shaking slightly as they moved to unfasten Mulder's pants and push them off his hips, sliding down the younger man's legs to remove the pants completely, grateful that Mulder had decided to go barefoot this evening. He caressed the firm skin of those runner's legs, cupping the tight ass to hold Mulder in place as his mouth moved forward to nuzzle his lover's cock.

Mulder groaned, dropping his head back as the skilled tongue trailed along his cock, teasing and lapping at the fluids pooling at the head before lips wrapped around the sensitive flesh. Skinner expertly teased him, varying the speed and intensity of his sucking, with never enough pressure to bring him off and before long Mulder was sobbing in his need.

"Please - Walter - please - "

Skinner released him, slowly, and grinned up at him. "You want something, babe?"

"Bastard," Mulder gasped, missing the warmth around his cock.

"Something like this?" Skinner continued, unperturbed, and suddenly sucked his lover's cock deep into his mouth. He relaxed the muscles of his throat, milking the heavy cock he was pleasuring, and heard the strangled cry above him just before hot fluid ran down his throat. He continued nursing Mulder's cock, keeping his own body from coming by sheer will power as he concentrated on the body in his arms. When he felt the trembling in the other man's legs, he reluctantly released the softening cock and rose, bracing Mulder's body against his own.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, unable to refrain from grinning.

Mulder sighed and said, weakly, "You are a bastard. And I begin to have doubts that I'll survive the night."

Skinner chuckled and pushed Mulder towards the bed. "Don't worry. I plan to keep you around a long, long time."

Mulder collapsed on the bed on his back. "Yeah, but what condition am I going to be in?"

Skinner just laughed again and began to slowly remove his own clothing. Mulder watched in appreciation as more of the muscled body was revealed, his cock beginning to stir at the sight. The older man looked over at him and, noting the return of interest, shook his head.

"That's it - I'm putting that thing under lock and key."

Mulder grinned and lazily began stroking his cock. "Jealous, old man?"

Skinner snorted. "Right." His clothes disposed of, he crawled up on the bed, straddling his younger lover, and leaned over to kiss Mulder thoroughly. Mulder wrapped his arms around Skinner's body, surrendering himself to the headiness of the kiss. His immediate needs taken care of, Mulder was prepared to enjoy the long, slow lovemaking his lover had in mind.

Skinner moved downward, kissing and nuzzling at his lover's neck before moving to the sweet spot right under his ear. Mulder groaned and arched upward, swearing as Skinner lifted his body slightly so that Mulder couldn't rub against him. The older man just grinned and resumed his journey across Mulder's skin, mapping every inch with his mouth and hands. Long before he reached Mulder's groin, the younger man was panting and achingly hard again.

Skinner slid back upward, capturing Mulder's mouth again. "Love you so much, babe," he murmured. "Need you in my life, and I'm not letting you get away again."

"Not going anywhere," Mulder gasped. "Though I may kill you if you don't do something _soon_."

Skinner chuckled. "Can't take it, hotshot?"

Mulder glared. "I can take anything you can dish out - oh, _shit_!"

He knew that he'd made a mistake the minute he said it and the wicked grin on Skinner's face confirmed it. Skinner slid back down his body, resuming the attention he had been giving to his lover's body where he had ended, but bypassing the cock begging for his attention. The older man worked his way down the firm legs and over the feet, taking care not to tickle his lover. Then he placed his hands behind Mulder's knees and pressed them back towards the younger man's chest.

Mulder moaned as his legs were spread, his ass lifting from the mattress and presenting itself for his lover's attention. He grabbed for his own knees, grateful to have something to hold onto. Skinner placed one hand on his abdomen, holding him gently but firmly in place on the bed, then leaned forward and nuzzled the firm cheeks spread before him. His mouth worked over the smooth, taut surface, making its way towards the cleft between the cheeks, and Mulder moaned and wriggled desperately. Skinner's tongue circled the opening and then probed firmly, feeling the sudden tensing in the stomach muscles under his hand. As the ring of muscles clenched under his attention, he pushed his tongue deeper and teased the spasming pucker. Mulder groaned, wiggling and trying to thrust against the probing tongue, nearly desperate in his need for more stimulation.

Finally, Skinner sat back up and grinned down at his writhing lover. "Still can take it, babe?"

"Damn you, Walter," Mulder growled. "Fuck me _now_!"

Skinner reached over to the nightstand for the lube as he shook his head. "Insults and now orders. What shall I do with you, brat?"

"I don't care what you do with me," Mulder panted, "as long as it involves fucking."

"You have such a one-track mind."

Mulder felt a cool tingle against his opening and thrust his hips downward, trying to capture the probing finger. Skinner's hand on his abdomen thwarted him and he nearly wept with frustration before a thick finger pushed its way deep into his body. He arched his back, his ass pressing downward against the hand resting on his ass, and he cried out with pleasure as the finger worked its way in and out of his body in a smooth glide. Skinner rotated his finger, pressing against one side of the tight muscle and then the other, working to loosen the passage before adding a second finger.

"You have such a beautiful ass, Fox," Skinner murmured.

Mulder forced his eyes open, looking into his lover's face, and was awed by the rapt, intent look he saw there. "It's yours," he gasped. "Open me up - take me."

"Yes," Skinner growled. He knelt back, covering his cock liberally, then moved back into place and lifted the strong legs to his shoulders. He pressed the head of his cock against Mulder's opening and then leaned forward, capturing Mulder's mouth once more.

"Yes!" Mulder hissed as Skinner pressed his hips forward, pushing his cock inside his lover's body. His back arched off the bed, his ass becoming a throbbing point of pleasure as the thick cock slid home. "Jesus, Walter! So good!"

Skinner groaned at the feeling of the muscles clenching and unclenching around his cock. "God, yes!" He loved this, loved the feeling of being buried deep inside his lover. As he felt Mulder's body relax to accept him, he began thrusting, slowly and steadily, filling his lover completely. Beneath him, he heard Mulder begging for more as he thrust up against Skinner's body, matching his tempo. The older man leaned forward, pressing himself deeper inside his lover's body, and increased his thrusting.

Mulder was gasping now, fisting his own erection as his hips moved in concert with Skinner. "God, yes! Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Need this - need you!"

Skinner groaned. He had wanted to take it slow but this was too good and he was going to come hard at any moment. He could feel it building within him, felt the undeniable pressure surging through him but he had to hold on for just a little longer. "Fox," he gasped. "Look at me."

His lover's eyes snapped open, shining green with passion in the candlelight, and he saw them lit with love in the seconds before passion overwhelmed them both. He heard Mulder cry out, felt the warmth surging against his belly, and then his own orgasm hit forcefully. He drove deep within his lover's body, releasing himself with an agonizing cry of passion and love before collapsing into his lover's arms.

When he finally roused himself enough to withdraw from his lover's body and roll to the side, he could see that Mulder was already half-asleep, a blissful grin on his face. Skinner knew that a similar one was on his own face as he sat up enough to extinguish the candles and pull the blankets over them. He settled back on the pillows, reaching out to pull his lover into his arms as they settled down to sleep. And, as he drifted off, he felt content knowing that, no matter what lay before them, they had made a good beginning to their new lives together.


	41. Paying the Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder pays the price for his life-threatening actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from “Call and Answer” by Stephen Duffy and Steven Page
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains a punishment session in a BDSM scenario, so if you are violently opposed to that aspect of the game, you might want to skip this or skim that section. However, if you made it through Skinner's own session with Mason without being squicked, you'll be fine with this.

_If you call, I will answer_  
_If you fall, I’ll pick you up  
_ _If you court this disaster  
I’ll point you home. _ _  
  
But I’m warning you, don’t ever do_ _  
Those crazy, messed-up things that you do.  
_ _If you ever do I promise you_ _  
I’ll be the first to crucify you_ _  
Now it’s time to prove that you’ve come back_   
_Here to rebuild._

 

Mulder woke slowly, aware of an overwhelming contentedness that seemed to fill every cell in his body. For the first time in what seemed like a very long time, he felt warm and safe, almost at peace with himself and the world around him. He smiled, knowing that the reason for his contentment was the man lying deeply asleep beside him, and snuggled closer into the firm chest under his cheek. Closing his eyes, he tried to go back to sleep but his mind seemed to have decided that it had had enough rest.

Lying quietly so as not to awaken his sleeping lover, he thought back over the events of the past two days. It was amazing how easily they had come back together and, despite how uncomfortable it had been to bare his soul, the confidences he had received in return warmed his heart. Until now, he had never fully accepted how deeply Skinner's love for him ran and had never acknowledged the depth of his own love. Passion, yes; that he had readily acknowledged and surrendered to, accepting that Skinner found his body sexually appealing. But his soul? There was so much darkness and guilt hiding in there, things he had been afraid to show anyone.  Skinner had simply reached inside Mulder and, with an infinitely gentle touch, had drawn those things out into the light, had accepted and absolved him. Had promised him atonement.

Mulder stirred uneasily at that thought. Skinner had promised him that, had promised that he would receive the punishment he both dreaded and craved before the end of the weekend, and Mulder was aware that their stolen time was nearly at an end. It would have to be soon and he found himself anticipating and dreading it in equal portions.

“Stop.”

Mulder opened his eyes and shifted up slightly, looking down at his lover’s face. Skinner’s eyes were still closed. “Stop what.”

“Thinking. Your thoughts are so loud I can practically hear them.”

Mulder chuckled. “That’s what Mason said the night I slept with them.”

One of Skinner’s eyes opened. “You slept with Geoff and Sean?”

Mulder grinned at the puzzled look on his lover’s face. “Yeah. I got drunk at the Club one night and Sean strong-armed me into going home with him. When I woke in the morning between him and Mason, I thought I’d have a heart attack.”

Skinner chuckled and let his eyes close again. “So how did Geoff get you to shut up and go back to sleep?”

“Threatened me with physical violence.”

“Only threatened? Geoff must be getting soft in his old age.”

Mulder chuckled. “I wouldn’t let him hear you say that. That man scares me to death.”

Skinner opened both eyes and looked at Mulder curiously. “Really? Why?”

Mulder tried to find the words. “He’s just so...dominant. So in control.”

“But you like it when I’m like that. I thought it made you feel safe.”

“It does.” Mulder was silent for a moment. “When we were...apart. When Mason took me in, it made me feel safe, too, but not like I feel with you. I feel safe with you because you love me and understand me, sometimes better than I understand myself. I felt safe with Mason because I knew nobody was stupid enough to mess with him. Not even me.”

Skinner chuckled. “Well, no one ever accused you of being stupid, Mulder. Stubborn and opinionated, but never stupid.”

“Thanks a lot, Walter. Have you ever thought of a career in self-esteem counseling?”

Skinner smiled and pulled Mulder’s head towards him so he could kiss him. “Smart-ass.”

Mulder settled back down against Skinner, his finger idly tracing patterns on his lover’s chest. Skinner let his eyes drift closed while he waited for Mulder to say whatever was on his mind this morning. He already had an idea what it was but wanted Mulder to bring it up. He didn’t have long to wait.

“Walter?”

“Hmm?”

“Today’s the day, isn’t it? You said this weekend, and tomorrow we go back to work.”

“Worried about it, Fox?” Skinner let his hand slowly move up and down Mulder’s back, soothing and grounding him.

“Scared to death. But also – I don’t know – I want to get it over with.”

Skinner pushed himself up into a sitting position, looking down at his lover. "I told you that the choice would always be yours and now is the time to make it. If you say yes, you put yourself into my hands from this moment on until it's over. If you say no, we accept that the incident is in the past and move onward."

"I – do I have to decide? Can't you just do this?"

Skinner shook his head. "You're not a child, Mulder. This decision must be yours, a choice that you make with your eyes open. You can't have the option of saying later that it was forced on you."

Mulder nodded slowly. "I understand. Do I have to decide the rest? Where and when, that sort of thing?"

"No. If you say yes, you give me control. I'll also decide what you'll be punished with and when the punishment is over. There will be no safe wording out of it."

Mulder drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Okay. Yes. I need this, to feel like I've atoned in some way."

Skinner pulled him close, rubbing his back for a moment before saying, quietly and firmly, "Then we'd better get going. I don't imagine you'll want to eat anything until it's over with, so why don't you grab a quick shower while I make arrangements for transportation to the Club."

Mulder nodded and slid out of bed. Skinner lay there for a long moment, listening to the sound of the shower starting, then sighed and picked up the phone.

* * *

The limo pulled into the Club's underground parking area and Skinner led the way to the elevator, taking care of the business of checking them in and getting the room cards. Mulder was quiet as he followed Skinner upstairs to the suite, and the older man could feel Mulder's increasing nervousness. Once inside the room, he pulled Mulder into his arms for a reassuring hug and felt his lover's arms wrap tightly around him.

Mulder dropped his head to Skinner's shoulder and buried his face in the shirt gratefully, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Skinner’s. "I’m sorry, Walter," he said in a muffled voice. "Sorry for what I did and sorry that you're having to do this."

"Not as sorry as you’re going to be," Skinner said quietly.

Mulder's eyes widened and he swallowed hard as he took a step backward. "What are you going to do to me, Sir?"

Skinner studied Mulder's face for a moment. "Just what I promised. I'm going to take a strap to your bare butt." His eyes locked with Mulder's. "This is going to be a very leveling and painful experience, Fox."

Mulder went pale. "Shit, Walter. I - can't we - I don't want to do this." He felt nauseous and his throat was so tight that it hurt. He bowed his head, his arms wrapped around his belly.

Skinner longed to tell Mulder that it was all right, that he didn't have to go through this, that he would never willingly hurt the man he loved, but he bit his tongue to keep the words back. Mulder had made his decision and he needed this, needed the closure, and - more than that - needed Skinner to stand firm on his word.

"I know," Skinner said, gently gathering Mulder close to him. "You've put yourself in my hands and trusted me to do what's best for you. You've screwed up and you know it. You'll never get past this till you feel like you've atoned in some way."

Mulder digested that for a moment then reluctantly nodded. He looked up anxiously at Skinner. "You won't - you won't send me away afterward, will you?"

Skinner's heart ached for the little boy that he heard in that voice and he stroked Mulder's hair. "No. I promise that I'll take care of you." He kissed Mulder gently, then handed him the overnight bag. "The sooner we get this over with the better. Strip in the bathroom, put on your cuffs, and then bring me your collar."

The familiar routine settled Mulder's nerves and by the time he came out of the bathroom, he had moved completely into sub mode. As he knelt on the floor with his collar laid on the floor in front of him, a feeling of tranquility came over him. It was out of his hands now.  He had given himself over to Skinner and he knew that the Dom would take care of him, remove the horrible pain and guilt he felt inside, and give him something to put in its place.

As Skinner fastened the collar around his sub's neck, he saw the peaceful look on Mulder's face and felt a deep sense of relief flood him. It was going to be all right. Mulder might not be thrilled about what was going to happen now but he accepted it, craved the feeling of closure that it would give him. Skinner allowed himself to caress his sub's hair and smiled as he felt Mulder turn his face to kiss his palm.

"My Kitten," he said softly. "Who do you belong to, Fox?"

"You, Sir."

"And what may I do to you, my Fox?"

"Anything you like, Sir."

"That's right, Kitten. And if I choose to punish you, that's my choice, isn't it?"

"Yes, Sir." Mulder's voice was even, unafraid.

"And why are you being punished, Fox?"

"For endangering my life by doing something dangerous that you had forbidden me to do. And for doing that to force your hand, to make you play the way I wanted you to play."

"I've already told you that I dislike being manipulated. Today I'm going to show you the kind of punishment you can expect if you break one of our Club rules again. And next weekend, when you are recovered, I will show you what you can expect when you are honest about your needs with me. Are you ready, Fox?"

Mulder swallowed, his composure starting to desert him. "I - yes, Sir."

Skinner drew Mulder to his feet and took him into his arms, kissing him gently. "That's my good boy."

"Where do you want me, Sir?"

"Over the massage table - it's padded and you'll be able to hold onto the supports. I'll look into getting a horse and a cross installed in here later but for now this will do."

Mulder nodded and moved to the table. He lay across it, gripped the braces under the table, and took another deep breath. "Ready, Sir."

Skinner removed a short strap from the cabinet. "All right. You're getting a dozen strokes and I want you to count for me when you're ready to take the next one." Mulder nodded and he ruffled the younger man's hair briefly. "Good man. And don't be afraid or ashamed to yell, scream, cuss, whatever. You don't have to be a tough guy here, okay?"

"Yes, Sir," Mulder said faintly.

Skinner put his hand on Mulder's back to steady the sub. "Here we go."

Mulder gasped as the strap connected with his bottom. Damn! he thought. Either I've forgotten how much this hurts or Skinner's a lot stronger than my dad was.

"Fox."

Oh, right, he was supposed to be counting. He drew a breath. "One, Sir." Another stroke and he wondered if he was going to survive eleven more. "Two." Three more strokes and he tried to stop the sob bursting out of his chest. "F-five."

Skinner paused after six and rubbed Mulder's back briefly. "Halfway there."

"Don't think - I can - " Mulder was gasping, struggling not to cry.

"Yes, you can." He put his hand back on Mulder's back and the young man tensed, waiting.

"Seven." Not too bad that time - maybe he was getting used to it. And then the next one blew away the cockiness. Shit! Suddenly his ass seemed to wake up and catch fire. "E-eight." He couldn't stop the sob that came out with that one. "N-nine - God - I can't - " He knew he was crying like a baby but it hurt so badly. He gave up trying to count and Skinner seemed to understand because he gave the last three strokes in silence, broken only by Mulder's sobbing. And then it was the last one, and he knew he had disgusted Skinner with his weakness, but he couldn't help it.

A gentle hand rubbed his back soothingly. "All over, Fox." He nodded, unable to speak around the sobs wracking his body. Skinner pulled him up by the shoulder and led him over to the couch, sitting down and pulling Mulder down so that he lay lengthwise on the couch on his front with his head pillowed on Skinner's lap. One hand rubbed his back soothingly while the other stroked his hair.

"S-sorry - "

"It's okay, Fox. Don't be ashamed to cry."

At that, Mulder's defenses totally crumbled. He turned his face into Skinner's lap and cried until, exhausted, he fell asleep.

* * *

Mason looked up from his work as Sean wandered into the playroom. "I thought you were going to spend some time in your office this afternoon."

"Changed my mind." Sean sat down on the padded massage table, drawing his knees up to his chin.

Mason watched him for a few minutes out of the corner of his eye as he finished checking over the drawer of plugs, noting that one of them needed to be replaced since it was showing signs of breakdown. He set the plug on the table and put the drawer back into the cabinet then pulled out the next drawer containing nipple clamps and accessories. Carefully, he checked over each one making sure that there were no jagged teeth or stress fractures and that the screws and hinges worked easily. Mason worked thoroughly but quickly from long familiarity with this equipment. Although Sean was responsible for cleaning up the toys after their sessions, once a month Mason went over every item in the cabinet to make sure that everything was in top shape and ready for play.

Setting aside a slender chain that needed to have a link repaired, he put away the drawer and looked over at Sean. "You want to talk about it?" he asked mildly.

Sean sighed and rested his chin on his knees. "Front desk says that Walter and Mulder checked in two hours ago."

"You already knew that they had left the hotel suite. By the way, did you make your spies do a used condom count?"

"Geoff!" Sean said indignantly then grinned. "There weren't any. Which doesn't mean anything - they could be going bareback."

"Sean, remind me to have a long talk with you about respecting people's privacy."

"At least I didn't put in video cameras!"

"For which your butt will be forever grateful." Mason crossed his arms and leaned back against the cabinet. "So what's the problem, brat?"

Sean chewed his lip, looking over at Mason anxiously. "Why do you think they're here? I expected them to head home from the hotel later today, basking in the afterglow of love - not to mention really hot sex. I didn't expect them to come here."

"I expect they are working to resolve some of their problems. You should be pleased, brat - it appears that your strategy to force them together worked."

"I _am_ pleased but - "

Mason chuckled and crossed the room to hug his lover. "Relax, baby. You're as nervous as a parent whose daughter is out on her first date. They'll be fine."

"Thanks for the support, lover," Sean retorted, pushing Mason away crossly.

Mason wrapped his arms around his pouting lover, leaning over to nuzzle his neck. "I could take your mind off this."

The pout began to make a retreat. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. I got a couple new catalogs today. And I know a certain young man who's been very good lately and deserves a treat."

Sean's eyes lit up. "Really, Geoff? Anything I want?"

Mason considered for a moment. "Anything but that electric chair."

Sean made a face. "One day, I'm going to surprise you and just order the damn thing."

"And on that same day you'll find out just how painful a punishment spanking can be." Mason kissed Sean briefly, then hauled him off the massage table and set him on his feet. "Come along, brat, before I change my mind and order a nice new paddle instead."

"All right, all right," Sean grumbled, following the Dom out of the playroom, closing the door behind him. "Um, Geoff? Just exactly what type of paddle are we talking about here…?"

* * *

Mulder woke in semi-darkness, wondering why his pillow was so hard and why his body hurt. He shifted slightly and winced.

"Easy, Fox."

Mulder turned his body slightly so he could squint up in the fading light, and he blinked. "You stayed."

Skinner smiled and ruffled Mulder's hair. "I told you that I would."

Tears welled up and Mulder's throat hurt. He turned his face down again to hide the tears. "You didn't have to - while I was asleep."

"Fox, I promised and I will never again break a promise I make to you."

Something warm that he vaguely thought might be happiness filled him and threatened to bubble out of him in laughter. He repressed a grin - _Walter will think I'm nuts if I start laughing after having had my ass beat._

"Yeah, well, your legs must be going to sleep." He shifted up to his knees, dislodging the blanket that Skinner had pulled over him, and shivered. "God, I'm cold - "

"Slightly shocky." Skinner stood and stretched. "A warm shower will help."

Mulder winced at the idea of shower spray hitting his tender backside but quietly went into the bathroom. He stood for a long time under the spray, letting it hit his head and run down his body, before he finally picked up the soap and washed his body.

When he returned to the main room, Skinner had turned the light on low, stripped down the bedcovers, and was pulling something out of the food service chute. He looked up with a smile.

"Warmer now?"

"Um - yeah." He refrained from commenting that his ass was a hell of a lot warmer than the rest of his body. Somehow he wasn’t sure that Skinner would appreciate his smart-ass comments.

Skinner indicated the bed where a towel was laid on the sheet. "Lay down and I'll give you a massage." There was a humorous look as he added, "I thought you'd prefer the bed to the massage table."

"Yeah." Mulder repressed a shudder, wondering if he'd ever be able to look at that table the same way as before. He lay down on his stomach.

Skinner brought over a plate of sandwiches cut into quarters and set it on the bed by Mulder. "You should be able to eat these lying down. I know you think you're not hungry, but if you start eating you'll find that you are."

Mulder reluctantly picked up a sandwich quarter and bit into it. To his surprise, it tasted pretty good and he ate two more quarters. Meanwhile, Skinner had moved to the end of the bed and began massaging Mulder's legs, starting at the feet and slowly moving up to the thighs on each leg. He avoided the reddened buttocks and began again on the shoulders, moving down to the waist with thorough but gentle hands. Mulder closed his eyes, blissing out under the skillful hands, feeling himself relax. He was half-asleep when the sudden touch of cold on his sore ass startled him awake.

"Shit!"

"Easy, Fox," Skinner said, his fingers gently spreading gel across the reddened skin. "This will help the pain."

"God, it's cold and it stings," Mulder moaned.

"Give it a few minutes." Skinner carefully wiped the gel off his hands and picked up the massage oil. He started on Mulder's left arm, moving slowly down the muscles to the fingers. By the time he finished the other arm, Mulder realized that his ass was pleasantly numb.

"Roll over."

Mulder carefully eased over on his back. Once again, Skinner started at the feet and worked up Mulder's legs, avoiding the groin, then moved up to the chest muscles. Mulder let his eyes drift closed again, enjoying the sensations. A vague disquiet began to creep through him, though, and he wondered when the next part of his punishment would begin.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" he finally asked.

Skinner didn't pause in the massage but he cast a sharp look at Mulder's face. "Because I want to be nice. Because you could use some special treatment."

"If you're going to punish me more, I'd rather you do it now and get it over with."

"Fox, look at me." Mulder opened his eyes, and Skinner thought he saw a combination of fear and longing in those eyes before they shielded again.

"It's over and done with. You have paid for your mistake, and that's the end of it. You're forgiven." He saw tears running out of the corner of Mulder's eyes. "Another emotional button, Fox?"

"I told you I had a lot of buttons when we started," Mulder murmured, his voice thick. "No one - no one's ever said that to me before now."

Skinner stopped his massage and took Mulder's face between his hands, kissing him gently. "No one's ever told you before that they forgive you for something you've done?" Mulder shook his head silently. "Not even Scully?"

Mulder smiled wryly. "We just try to forget it when I screw up – until the next time. And my family never forgave anything, much less forgot."

The bitterness in his lover's voice went right to Skinner's heart, and he laid down on the bed, gently pulling Mulder into his arms. "Well, that's not how it worked in my family. Once punishment was dispersed, the slate was cleaned and the subject was never brought up again."

Mulder snuggled in closer and found himself getting sleepy again. "Sounds nice," he murmured. "Did you ever get whipped?"

Skinner chuckled softly. "Many times. We lived in a rural farming community, and my father was very old fashioned. He felt that his own father's methods had worked fine for him and would work just as well for us."

"He may have had a point," Mulder said, fighting a yawn. "You seem to have turned out just fine."

"You'll be fine, too," Skinner said softly, kissing Mulder's soft hair lovingly. "I'm going to see to that. Now go back to sleep – you've had an emotionally exhausting day."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder said with a half-smile, letting his eyes drift shut. A feeling of contentment flowed into every corner of his soul, flooding it with warmth and scattering all the shadows. And for the first time in a very long time, he felt free and at peace.


	42. Crossing the Threshold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-Files are reopened and Skinner fulfills a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Point of No Return" from "The Phantom of the Opera" by Andrew Lloyd Webber. 
> 
> Alternate Reality Warning: From here on out, I will be taking several serious departures from the 6th season, most of which will be obvious. If you're a plot-line purist, sorry, but the show just doesn't fit with my story line, and I just can't believe my Skinner and Scully would act as they did. Besides, this is going to be a hell of a lot more fun .

_Past the point of no return, no going back now_  
_Our passion play has now at last begun_  
_Past the thought of right or wrong, one final question_ _  
How long should we two wait before we're one?_ _  
When will our blood begin to race, the sleeping flower burst into bloom,_ _  
When will the flames at last consume us?_ _  
Past the point of no return, the final threshold_ _  
The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn._  
_We've passed the point of no return._

 

"Good morning, Scully!"

Scully looked up, startled by the cheerful voice of her partner, in time to see a cup of Starbucks coffee and a paper bag deposited on her desk. She stared at them blankly for a minute then looked up to see him grinning at her in a way that she had rarely seen. Realization hit and she knew she was smiling back as she leaned forward to say, softly, "Everything's okay?"

"Better than okay," he replied in a low voice. "Although I won't be sitting comfortably for awhile."

"Too much information, Mulder," she said, laughing. "So you're – you know – _back_?"

"I haven't moved back in yet. We're taking it slow, doing things right. We'll be – um – looking for a place. Together."

Scully grinned. "I'd give anything to see you house-hunting."

"Actually, I thought you could help me with that," Mulder admitted. "He's pretty busy right now so I'm going to do the preliminary run - you know, narrow down the list. I have a meeting with my real estate agent tonight to get the ball rolling and I thought maybe…" His voice trailed off and he looked at Scully hopefully.

"All right, Mulder, I'll go with you. I never can resist that pitiful kicked-puppy look."

Mulder let out a relieved breath. "Thanks – I owe you, partner."

"Good – you can take me to dinner afterwards and give me all the juicy details." She laughed as Mulder flushed and waved him towards his desk. "Go on – we've got a meeting with OPR in an hour and I'm sure that you'll need that coffee to sustain you."

"We?" Mulder said, sitting down at his desk gingerly. His backside was still sore after its encounter with the strap the previous day even though Skinner had applied a second treatment of the soothing balm this morning before they had left the Club. He looked over at his partner. "I thought you'd already danced with them and it was my turn. Cutting in on me, Scully?"

"Well, if you'd _prefer_ to face them alone…"

"Not on your life."

"Actually, you seem to be taking this pretty calmly."

He shrugged. "What's the worst that can happen? They aren't going to send me to some remote office – they don't want me out where they can't keep an eye on me. So I get stuck doing background checks or crosschecking fertilizer purchases for a while. Someday, something is going to break loose and when it does I'll be here, waiting."

"I'm impressed, Mulder. That's a pretty mature attitude for you."

He grinned at her. "Your little boy is growing up, Scully."

Scully threw a file at him.

* * *

Mulder entered the conference room and settled at the table, glancing briefly at Skinner before looking down at his notes. Despite what he had said to Scully, deep down inside he was worried about what the OPR might decide to do with him. He may have joked about being stuck doing boring routine work, but the reality was pretty unappealing. And then there was the matter of Scully's transfer, an order that had been temporarily frozen. If they decided to transfer her, Mulder was looking at two depressing scenarios – Scully accepting the transfer and moving away or Scully resigning from the Bureau. Even though she had said that she would continue fighting, with them separated like that it was going to be even worse than when she had been assigned to Quantico.

One of the Assistant Directors seated at the table glanced up at Mulder briefly. "Agent Mulder, before we begin the regular part of our hearing, AD Skinner has told us that you have some information regarding the old case files from the X-Files."

Mulder nodded. "Part of the reason that the X-Files were shut down was due to the fire that destroyed much of my office several months ago. Using a process that restores moisture to the documents and by reassembling the fragments, I should be able to recover a large percentage of the case material that was damaged. And, while this process will be tedious and ongoing, what I've already recovered will allow Agent Scully and me to begin work on the X-Files immediately."

The door opened and Scully entered, smiling at Mulder slightly as she took a seat next to him. It was as near a "thumbs up" gesture that she could give him and it lightened his heart.

"Agent Mulder, as you said, that was only 'part' of the reason that the X-Files was shut down." AD Maslin looked down at the file folder in front of her. "Another – and more substantial – reason was because of some rather unusual charges made by another agent. You made some rather incredible claims about one Gibson Praise, got the backing of the Justice Department in fact." She paused and glanced over at Skinner. "Claims that you were unable to substantiate."

"Because Gibson Praise was abducted, not because they were proven wrong," Mulder pointed out.

"Be that as it may," AD Kersh said, "An agent was injured, a suspect in a related murder killed while in custody, and the boy was abducted."

Skinner spoke up. "None of which was the fault of Agents Mulder or Scully. In fact, it was Agent Mulder who pointed out that Gibson Praise was the original target of the hit man."

AD Cassidy nodded but frowned at Skinner. "We understand that, Walter. No one is attempting to blame Agent Mulder for the Gibson Praise incident."

"And for Dallas?" Mulder asked, keeping his expression neutral. "Am I still being blamed for that?" He ignored the intake of breath next to him and the glare from Skinner. If he was going to be hanged for a sheep, he might as well be hanged for a goat.

AD Cassidy looked down at her notes. "We have both your report and Agent Scully's. We have attempted to find corroborating evidence to your claims but the bone fragments appear to have disappeared, although we did find evidence in SAC Michaud's home that links him to the bombing. If you hadn't followed your 'hunch', it appears that many more lives would have been lost. It appears you are to be commended, Agent Mulder."

"And the X-Files?"

"About that," AD Maslin said, looking through the file in front of her. "Agent Mulder, I'm reading here a very pie-in-the-sky report about global domination plans by vicious, long-clawed spacelings. Is there going to be data to back up this vague, omnibus account?"

"Yes."

One of the other ADs sat back in his chair. "I see your renowned arrogance has been left quite intact. You're asking us to accept this report of a spaceship buried under polar ice and your death-defying escape from it?"

"Yes, I am. The ice became superheated by the ship as it rose beneath us, causing the ice to collapse. The Australian survey team has filed their own report substantiating the presence of a large crater in the precise location that I was sent to, and their opinion that the ice shelf was stable before this incident and that there was no reported quake activity in the area."

Another AD spoke up, a smirk on his face. "These spacelings - they weren't something that I saw in 'Men in Black'?"

Mulder tried not to sigh at this crack. "I didn't see 'Men in Black'."

"Too bad - damn fine movie."

Mulder reined in his temper, aware that Skinner and Scully were counting on him. He took a deep breath. "As much as this sounds like science fiction, we can and will prove the validity of our report."

The ADs exchanged a look and Maslin continued to look through the file. "I'm just trying to get this straight. The plot is for these spacelings to take over the planet aided by a group of men here on earth?"

Mulder nodded. "A shadow conspiracy within our own government."

"Men who are growing corn in the middle of the desert which features pollen which was genetically altered to hold a virus which will be taken away by bees. Whose sting transmits the virus causing the growth of an extraterrestrial being within the human host?"

"Which we will prove once the X-Files have been reopened."

Maslin spoke again. "Let us remind you that the FBI is not a school for science or the grinding of personal axes. Hopefully you will be able to present us with some material evidence to support a continued investigation."

"Agent Scully, who was assigned to the X-Files as a scientist, was stung by one of these bees, and was infected with this virus. She is here today with hard evidence about this virus." He turned and looked at his partner, relieved at the small nod she gave him before turning to face the panel.

"Agent Scully?" AD Maslin spoke up. "Would you care to inform us of your findings? What is the nature of this virus you were infected with?"

"I can't identify it. I have run three separate tests – "

"Verifying that it is alien in nature?"

Scully drew a deep breath. "No. The virus' DNA and proteins are very much of this world. However, the damage that it did to the body that I autopsied was beyond anything I've ever seen. And what Agent Mulder witnessed in Antarctica – an alien being inside a human body – "

"Did _you_ witness this as well, Agent Scully?"

"No. I was barely conscious most of the time."

"And did you see this alien spacecraft?"

"Not clearly, although I saw the evidence left behind."

"So you are saying that you can't substantiate Agent Mulder's claims of human hosts for aliens or the spacecraft? And that the virus is terrestrial in nature?"

"Yes. However, I believe that Agent Mulder is telling the truth."

AD Cassidy said, dryly, "You are not the only one willing to take Mulder's word on blind faith." She glanced briefly at Skinner, then back at the two agents. "However, this panel requires more evidence – concrete evidence." She glanced back at her notes. "That's all we require at this time, Agents. The panel will deliberate and let you know their decision. In the meantime, you will carry on with your assignments from before the Dallas incident.  There will be no reassignment at this time."

Scully nodded and stood up, and Mulder reluctantly rose as well. He followed her out into the hallway and collapsed onto the bench with a sigh and a wince. She sat down next to him, patting his knee reassuringly.

"Sorry I couldn't be more help in there," she said.

Mulder gave her a half-smile and shrugged. "I'm just glad you were there to support me. I can't imagine what I'd do if you and Walter didn't believe me. Although I wish that the virus could have shown some kind of extraterrestrial origin."

Scully sighed. "Well, I expect it'll be awhile before we hear anything so we'd better get back to work."

* * *

Mulder sat at his desk, piecing together more burned files. The room was quiet, most everyone having left for lunch. Scully had gone out, too, but he hadn't been hungry. He looked up as he heard the door open and couldn't help smiling at Skinner as he came in.

"Hi, there," he said softly. "You seem to have escaped the lions more or less intact."

"More or less." Skinner stood inside the doorway, his hands in his pockets, looking around the room.

"It's okay – everyone's gone." Mulder leaned back in his chair, noting that his lover looked a little lost and uncomfortable. "What's wrong? The vote go against us?"

"No," Skinner said, drawing in a deep breath. "You and Scully have been reassigned to the X-Files, although they feel that your attempt to recreate the files is a waste of time."

Mulder couldn't suppress his grin of relief. "Yeah? Well, I expect the boss will cut me a little slack on that, as long as the rest of the work is being done."

Skinner looked down at his shoes, avoiding the younger man's eyes. "I doubt it. Kersh goes pretty much by the book."

"What?"

He looked up, meeting Mulder's eyes. "The X-Files department has been reassigned to AD Kersh. Effective immediately."

"But – they can't do that! You've worked with us for _years_! You understand what we're up against!"

"The panel feels that I'm too close to the situation for objectivity."

Mulder's eyes widened in horror. "My God! They know?"

Skinner shook his head. "No, although the puppet masters above them undoubtedly know. They're keeping silent for their own reasons. No, the review board feels that I've been 'contaminated' by exposure to and involvement with your cases over the past four years. They think I've lost my ability to objectively discipline you."

"They should have been at the Club yesterday," Mulder murmured with a faint smile.

A slight smile momentarily lit Skinner's eyes. "I see that you're able to joke about it today," he said softly, momentarily diverted from the subject at hand.

"Yeah, and Scully wants all the details over dinner tonight." He looked up at Skinner. "You're still going to be tied up in that meeting with the Director, right?"

Skinner nodded. "I'm glad you're going to be with Scully. All joking aside, are you okay?"

Mulder nodded. "Better than okay. Centered somehow. Even with all this crap."

"That's not all. In addition – "

They were interrupted as the door to the bullpen opened and several agents entered, still carrying on their lunch conversations. They glanced curiously at Skinner as they headed towards their desks, still talking.

"Well, guess I better get moved back in," Mulder said, standing up and reaching for the box that held several of the files he was piecing together. "I'm looking forward to the quiet again."

Skinner nodded, unable to say more with the other agents wandering around. In the open doorway, he paused and looked back at the agent. "Oh – and Mulder?"

Mulder looked up. "Sir?"

"I think you'll find something on your desk that might give you the evidence you need."

Mulder stared at the empty doorway for a long moment, then hefted his box and headed towards the elevator.

* * *

Mulder entered his old office and stood for a moment in the doorway, looking around. The room showed no sign of fire damage – on the other hand, it showed no sign of personality, either. Nothing of the physical presence that he had given it over years of working here. The walls were bare, the two desks antiseptically clean. Two – he grinned. Scully would be happy about that. He hefted the box in his hands and moved purposely forward. Time to get settled in and start personalizing the place.

There was a single file folder lying on his desk, and he set his box down to pick it up. Opening it, he was startled to see a picture of what appeared to be the remains of a man, his chest gaping open. Images of what he had seen in Antarctica flooded him and he could feel the excitement building inside. He flipped up the picture to read the information.

The door opened and he looked up, then frowned when he saw Jeffrey Spender enter. "Spender, what are you doing in my office?"

"It's my office, too, Spooky." Spender sat down at the other desk and leaned back in the chair.

Mulder barely kept his jaw from dropping. "You are _not_ my partner."

"No, actually I'm not. Diana is." Mulder swung around as he heard Diana Fowley enter. "Or so she says."

Fowley shrugged. "Fox, I just thought that – since we work well together and I know your methods and I'm not a skeptic – "

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Mulder demanded.

Scully entered behind Fowley and regarded Spender sitting at the other desk with crossed arms. "The department has been expanded to two teams. Since you are the senior agent, you are still the department head - and responsible for determining the teams."

Three pairs of eyes turned on him – one scornful, one smugly confident, one cool – and he clenched his teeth. He drew a deep breath and plunged in, determined to salvage the situation as best he could.

"You're right, Diana – you know my methods. However, as the two senior agents, it would unbalance the department for us to be partners. I believe it will work much better for each of us to lead a team." He glanced over at Spender, trying to control his ire at the thought of that man being involved with his pet project. "Agent Spender may be a skeptic, but never underestimate the value of a skeptical eye to help uncover the truth."

Fowley glanced over at Spender and if she was disappointed, she hid it well. "All right. Come with me, Agent Spender – AD Kersh has a case for us to look into." She glanced over at Mulder apologetically, but Scully thought there was a hint of a knife-in-the-back-gleam in that look. "You okay with that, Fox?"

Mulder gave her his best deadpan expression and gestured to his box. "Go right ahead – I've got settling in to do."

Scully wasn't fooled by that expression – she had seen it too many times over the years and knew that it covered something. She watched the other pair leave the room and crossed to lean against the other desk. "Mulder, what are you up to?"

He grinned and held up the file folder. "Jackpot, Scully. Go pack a bag – we're going to Arizona."

* * *

"Mulder, when you offered me dinner tonight, this isn't what I had in mind."

Mulder grinned and handed her an in-flight meal. "Come on, Scully. You're getting a trip, too. What more could you ask for?"

Scully grimaced. "Something edible would be nice." She picked at her food. "So what are we looking for, Mulder?"

"Evidence." He handed her the folder.

Scully opened it and looked at the photo. "Good thing I didn't want to eat. What am I looking at?"

"Would you believe an Indian – pardon – Native American attack?"

"I thought they scalped not disemboweled."

"Branching out?"

"I take it you don't believe the crime scene report or the coroner's report? What do _you_ think happened?"

"I _know_ what happened. I've seen something like that before," Mulder said, and Scully looked at him questioningly. "Antarctica."

Scully looked at the picture again, queasy at the thought that something like this might have happened to her. Still, she had to play Devil's advocate. "Mulder, just because I admit that the crime report is unlikely doesn't mean that I can just accept your theory."

Mulder gave her a look of affectionate exasperation. "What does it take? For this thing to come up and bite you on the ass? I _saw_ these creatures. I saw them burst to life. You would've seen them, too, but you were infected with that virus. You were passed out over my shoulder."

Scully said, softly, "Mulder, I know what you did. I know what happened to me but – " She reached over to take his hand in hers. "You told me that my science kept you honest. That it made you question your assumptions. That by it I made you a whole person. If I change now, if I stop questioning, it wouldn't be right. Or honest."

Mulder nodded, understanding that she had to take the objective view to keep him from being overwhelmed by his own enthusiasm and need to believe. "I understand, and I need you to be honest. But Scully, this time I think your science is wrong. In fact, I'll bet you the best dinner in DC when we get back that I'm right, that this is evidence about extraterrestrial life – alive on this planet in our lifetime."

"Done." Scully shook his hand to seal the bet. "You better save up your money – I've got someplace really expensive in mind."

He grinned. "That's okay – I'll mooch meals off Walter to make up for it – if you win."

"Speaking of Walter, how is he taking all this? Our being reassigned, and Agents Fowley and Spender on the team?"

Mulder sighed. "I don't know. We didn't get much of a chance to talk about it, but I plan to sit him down and discuss it when we get back."

"You left him a message, right? Let him know where you were going?"

Mulder grinned. "Who do you think gave me that folder?"

Scully drew in a breath. "Skinner did, not Kersh? Mulder, AD Kersh is _not_ going to be happy about this."

"Then he should have given the case to me instead of trying to hide it."

"You don't know that he was going to do that, Mulder. Maybe he was planning on bringing it to your attention this afternoon. Not every thing is a conspiracy."

"I don't trust him," Mulder said baldly. "And why else would they transfer us to him? They know Walter can't be corrupted or coerced anymore. They're trying to control us, Scully. And that's why Spender was assigned to the team – to spy on us, try to discount the evidence."

"And what about Agent Fowley?"

Mulder sighed. "I know you don't like Diana or trust her, although I don't know why. She believes in the work, supports what I'm doing. So despite your suspicions and Walter's - "

"So Walter doesn't trust her either?"

Mulder flushed. "Actually, I think he's jealous. Diana and I were...involved several years back."

Scully nodded. "I know. The Gunmen told me. They also said that you were devastated when she took the job in Europe and left."

He looked down at his meal tray and shrugged. "I took the whole thing more seriously than she did. But I got over it. I’m not about to fall into that trap a second time. Besides, I'm in love with Walter – I'm about to move in with him, for God's sake!"

"Maybe you should let Agent Fowley know that."

His head jerked up and he stared at her, horror-struck. "Tell Diana about me and Walter? Are you crazy?"

"Not that, Mulder. Tell her that you're taken and that it's serious."

"I already did. I think she understands and just wants to be friends."

"Right," Scully said skeptically. "I saw the look in her eyes, Mulder – and that was not an 'I just want to be friends' look. It was an 'I want to get him in a dark corner and fuck his brains out' look."

Mulder gave her a wide-eyed look of innocence only spoiled by his grin. "Scully! What language! You've been hanging around Sean too much."

Scully gave him a withering look and a one-fingered salute, then pointedly pulled out a book and started reading. Mulder just grinned and picked up the folder, studying it again for information. All they needed to prove their claims was here – he just knew it. And somewhere in Arizona was the proof.

* * *

"Skinner."

"Hi. It's me."

The voice on the other end of the phone was tired and discouraged. Skinner sat down on the couch and set down his coffee cup on the table so that he could concentrate on his lover. "You sound wiped out, babe. Just got back in?"

"Yeah. I'm at my apartment. Gonna catch a couple hours sleep before we meet with Kersh this afternoon." Mulder drew in a ragged breath. "Damn it, Walter, we had him. We had the boy and they took him from us, then shut us down cold."

"I'm sorry," Skinner said softly. "Maybe I shouldn't have given you that file – "

"No, God, no, Walter. It wasn't your fault that this happened."

"It wasn't your fault either, Mulder." There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Fox, you're blaming yourself for what happened, aren't you?"

"I should have known – I didn't want Scully to take him to the hospital, but when she said that she could run tests… I didn't think about him, that he wouldn't be safe. I just wanted my damn evidence, no matter what the cost. As usual."

The bitterness in the younger man's voice worried him. He had seen this too many times not to recognize the symptoms of Mulder heading into another self-destructive cycle. "Stop it, Mulder. You did the best you could under the circumstances, so stop beating yourself up over this." He paused and let a humorous tone creep into his voice. "That's my job."

A weak laugh on the other end reassured him. "Bastard."

"I love you, too. And speaking of beatings and such, would you like to go to the Club this weekend? Play around and release a little tension?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Mulder admitted.

"Good. I'll meet you there at six tonight. Get a good nap – you're going to need it." Delighted laughter filled his ears and he smiled. "Take care of yourself – and keep your head down with Kersh. I'll see you tonight."

"All right." Mulder sighed softly. "Thanks, Walter."

Skinner smiled as he hung up the phone and began to make plans to take care of his troubled lover.

* * *

"Mulder!"

Mulder turned in the hallway and grinned at the redhead running towards him. "Hey, Sean. What's up?"

"You will be - strung up by your thumbs if you don't spill." Sean grabbed Mulder and dragged him into Mason's suite. "What's going on with you and the Mountain? Did you get everything worked out? Why were you back here last Sunday when you should have been exhausted, sated lumps? You're not here alone, are you?"

Mulder grinned. "Take it easy, Sean!"

"Mulder, so help me - " Sean growled. "If you don’t tell me every little detail, I'm going to tell Dana your sub name."

"You'd blackmail me?"

"Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer to call it an application of disreputable knowledge towards a desired goal. Now are you going to talk, or do I have to hold you down and tickle you?"

Mulder laughed and settled on the couch. "Okay, okay. Yes, Walter and I are back together. And we appreciate your efforts in that area - the hotel suite was wonderful and we got a chance to really talk."

"Among other things?" Sean asked, smirking.

"What, you don't know? You didn't install cameras?"

Sean stuck out his tongue at Mulder. "So why did you came back here to play afterwards?"

Mulder looked down at his hands, flushing. "Um - we had some - business to take care of."

Sean perked up. "Please tell me that Walter paddled your sorry ass for that strangulation trick."

"Your sympathy is under-whelming," Mulder said ironically.

"Yes!" Sean crowed, pumping a triumphant fist skyward. "All right, Walter!"

"Gee, thanks, buddy."

Sean chuckled. "Sorry, Mulder, but you know you deserved that one. Important subbie note: never push a Dom on the Rules unless you know what the price is and are prepared to pay it. So I take it that you two finally talked about what each of you really wants out of this?"

Mulder nodded. "Yeah. We're going to play the same way most of the time, but when I need something more, Walter's going to try to give it to me."

"I'm happy for you, Mulder," Sean said simply, reaching over to take one of his friend's hands. "You two have something really special together, and I don't want to see you lose that. If you need any advice or help, you know that you can come to me, right? And you promise you won't try anything stupid again?"

"I promise."

The door opened and Mason walked in. "Sean, you wouldn't by any chance be harboring a fugitive submissive, would you? Here's Walter and he seems to have misplaced Mulder."

Sean grinned at the two Doms. "Guilty as charged. I forcibly dragged him in here and I've been trying to pump him for information."

"You're out of luck," Skinner said, crossing the room to pull his lover up from the couch. "FBI agents are trained to withstand incredible torture."

"I don't know about that. I threatened to tickle him and he folded."

Skinner chuckled. "Well, not too many desperate criminals try to tickle my agents." He kissed Mulder tenderly. "Hey, babe. How did your meeting with Kersh go?"

Mulder slid his arms around Skinner's waist and made a face. "About what you'd expect. He chewed my ass about grinding personal axes."

"Not too much, I hope," Skinner said, sliding his hands over the ass in question. "I have plans for this later."

Mulder grinned. "I think there's enough left for your purposes. Kersh also spouted regulations about filing paperwork, getting proper authorization, co-operating within a team - it seems he had given the case to Spender and was ticked that I had gotten hold of it. I pointed out that - according to regulations - as department head, the case should have come to me and that I should have determined the team to investigate it."

Skinner shook his head sympathetically. "Poor man. I predict a heart attack or stroke within two months at the most."

"Well, he _was_ shaking a bit at the end."

"You are such a brat," Skinner said affectionately. Then his eyes grew serious as he studied the younger man's face. "Are you all right?"

Mulder shrugged. "I'll survive," he said flatly.

Skinner frowned, recognizing that Mulder was trying to hide something - more than likely his own guilt over the Praise boy. "Mulder – "

"I'll talk about it – I promise. Later."

Before Skinner could say anything more, Mason came back into the room with a bottle of champagne.

“I thought this occasion required a little celebration,” Mason said as he opened the bottle and poured glasses. Once everyone had a glass, Mason raised his. “To Walter and Mulder. It’s been a rough road, but here’s hoping that the path will be smoother from now on.”

“I’ll second that,” Skinner said with a smile for Mulder. The younger man grinned and clinked glasses with his lover. The past month had been an emotional roller coaster and he was looking forward to settling back into their regular routine at the Club.

“And in honor of the occasion, I’ve got a little gift for you two,” Mason said as he handed Skinner a small, flat box. Mulder saw the wicked twinkle in the older Dom’s eyes and immediately became wary.

Skinner set down his glass and removed the ribbon from the box, then removed the lid. Mulder peered into the box and then back at Mason in disbelief.

“A paddle? You gave us a paddle?”

Skinner removed the small black paddle from the box and ran his hand over the varnished wood side of it, smiling as his fingers traced the name carved on it so many years ago.

“What kind of a present is a paddle?” Mulder demanded.

“A very special kind of present,” Skinner said.

“That’s easy for you to say – it’s not your ass that it’s going to be used on.”

Skinner’s eyes met Mason’s and they smiled in shared memory. “Time to go, Mulder. Thanks, Geoff. I’ll be sure this gets plenty of use.”

“Oh, shit!” Mulder muttered as Skinner ushered them out of the room. “Can’t we talk about this, Walter? I’ve been very good lately. Well, there was that little incident with Spender in the copier room this afternoon, but you’re not going to hold that against me, are you?”

The door shut behind them and Sean grinned up at his lover. “I think Mulder’s in for a big surprise.”

"I hope so," Mason said with a troubled frown. "I just hope Walter can handle it."

"I think he'll be fine," Sean said complacently. "Mulder says that Walter punished him last weekend and he seemed to be dealing with that just fine."

Mason nodded slowly. "But that's a whole different issue from bringing erotic spanking into their games."

"Geoff, stop worrying," Sean admonished, sliding into the larger man's arms. "I'm watching them, you're watching them, Jean-Pierre's watching them – they won't be able to sneeze without us knowing about it. So just _relax_ for a few minutes."

Mason smiled and wrapped his arms around Sean's slender body. "And I suppose you have some suggestions on ways to help me relax?"

"Mmm-hmm." Sean nuzzled the Dom's neck. "I thought you could take a nice, relaxing bath and then I'll give you a thorough massage. JP's got a nice dinner lined up for us, and after dinner I thought I'd take you to bed and let you have your wicked way with me."

Mason chuckled and tightened his hold. "If I was a suspicious man, I'd wonder what trouble you're in."

Sean gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Me? Trouble?"

"You. Trouble. Words that are practically synonymous." Mason said, lightly smacking Sean's backside. "'Fess up, brat."

To his surprise, Sean colored and dropped his head so that he was staring at Mason's chest as his fingers toyed with the buttons. "I – it's just that you've been so busy lately – we haven't had any special time together in a while – "

Mason hugged Sean tightly, murmuring against his ear, "You're right, love. And I'm sorry. What with Dana's training, and this whole business with Walter and Mulder – "

"That's not everything, Geoff," Sean said quietly. "Something else has been bothering you lately."

Mason sighed. "It's just that a certain package that I promised someone I'd be responsible for has...gone astray."

Sean looked up, his eyes narrowing. "A package? You mean a person, don't you? And someone that you don't want me to know about?"

"It's safer for you if you don't know any more," Mason said. "And it's not as important as you are." He kissed Sean, a long and tender kiss, and felt the younger man melt against him. "I should be taking care of _you_."

Sean grinned at him. "Oh, you will be. Believe me, I have _big_ plans for you, my Lord and Master."

Mason laughed and let Sean lead him into the bathroom.

* * *

Mulder was still protesting as Skinner opened the door to their suite and, as the Dom had been silent during the entire time, he was becoming more and more nervous. Once the door closed behind them, Skinner took Mulder into his arms and kissed him into silence.

“Does this mean you’re not angry with me?” Mulder said cautiously.

Skinner chuckled and pressed a brief kiss on Mulder’s mouth. “Fox, this isn’t about punishment. Remember? I promised to give you what you need, how to release all that guilt inside without punishing you.”

"But – I didn't ask you to do this!"

"I know. But do you remember that I said I would be watching you for signs to tell me when you needed something more? All my instincts tell me that you need this. You've taken on a load of guilt because of what happened to that boy and you need to release it before you do something self-destructive. I know that this will help." Mulder looked skeptically at him. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“You know I do.”

“Then get ready for me, my pet. Clean inside and out.”

Mulder sighed and dragged himself into the bathroom. When he returned to the main room a short time later, Skinner had uncovered a St. Andrews cross at the end of the room and was checking the chains set into the wood at each corner. The Dom had removed his shirt to work and, as he ran his hands down the wood to check for roughness, the light glistened off his skin. Mulder swallowed hard, caught between arousal and fear, and slowly moved to his place on the floor. The sight of the paddle lying beside his collar made his heart race and, for a moment, he thought he might pass out. He saw Skinner look over at him questioningly and went into position down on his knees.

Skinner crossed the room, picking up the clothes he had set out, and paused briefly to caress Mulder’s head. “Breathe, babe,” he said softly. “I’ll be right back – don’t make me have to resuscitate you.”

Mulder drew in a deep, shaky breath and forced his eyes down to the two items on the floor in front of him, reminding himself that he had asked for this deeper level of play. The black paddle was small and oval in shape, about the size of a table tennis racket. Tentatively, he reached out to touch it and was surprised to find that one side was a soft velvet-like fabric. Curious, he picked it up and rubbed it over his thigh, smiling at the sensuous feel of the cloth moving over his skin. He turned the paddle over and saw that the other side was varnished wood. Light glinted off something on the surface and, looking closer, he saw that the name “Walter” had been carved into the surface of the paddle. The lettering had been filled with gold paint and then varnished over so that the surface was smooth but, as he ran his fingers over the letters, he almost fancied that he could feel the carving beneath.

So this wasn’t a new item, but something that had belonged to Mason and evidently held a connection with Skinner. Mulder wondered if Mason had used it on Skinner but still had trouble picturing his Dom being paddled by anyone, even Mason. Experimentally, he brought the paddle down hard on his thigh and almost jumped at the loud noise it made. He quickly set the paddle back into place before Skinner could come out to investigate the noise then studied the faint red mark on his thigh curiously. Oddly enough, for all its noise, the sting had been very mild and the marking left behind almost impossible to see. He thought that there just might be a chance of surviving whatever Skinner had in mind.

Skinner came out of the bathroom, hiding a smile as he saw Mulder quickly settle back into position. He had deliberately left Mulder alone with the dreaded paddle so that the younger man could have a chance to get acquainted with it. And, from the sound of things, Mulder had done just that.

He crossed the room to the cabinet, glancing over to see that Mulder had his eyes properly focused on the floor. Looking through the cabinet, he located the items he wanted and set them on the bed.

"All right, Kitten. Kneel up."

Mulder moved up on his knees, letting his eyes move up from Skinner's black leather boots and over his black leather pants. His breath caught as he saw that these were a new pair that laced up at the crotch, nicely framing the older man's assets, and his fingers itched to loosen those lacings and gaze on the prize underneath. He heard Skinner clear his throat and flushed, holding his collar to his neck and bending his head so that Skinner could fasten it at the back. Then he let his eyes travel back up Skinner's body, lingering once more on the inviting crotch before moving up over the silk shirt that had been left unbuttoned and merely tucked into the pants. He drew in a deep, shaky breath, all thoughts of the paddle forgotten.

Skinner smiled, noting the signs of severe lust in Mulder's face, and reached out to grasp the back of Mulder's head, pressing the younger man's face against his crotch. "Is this what you want, my pet?" Mulder nodded vigorously. "Show me how much you want this." Mulder eagerly reached out for the lacings but Skinner batted his hands away. "No, you don't, boy. You have to _earn_ the right to do that. Right now I just want you to show me what you want."

Frustrated, Mulder glared up at the Dom, wondering what the other man meant, then he focused his attention back on the prize he wanted. He leaned forward, nuzzling the leather-encased cock. He breathed in deeply, drowning himself in the scent of Skinner and butter-soft leather. His tongue snaked out to trace the shape underneath and he heard Skinner groan.

"That's my good Kitten."

Encouraged, he worked his mouth and tongue over the entire surface, his tongue tracing out the shape of a cock ring and the hardening shaft inside it. The rest of the world retreated until all that remained was the scent of leather and the body he was worshipping.

"Enough," said a soft voice, gently pushing his head away. Mulder moaned but Skinner pulled him up and kissed his lips. "Soon, pet. I promise I'll let you finish that if you'll be a good boy for me."

"Anything," Mulder promised, pressing kisses over Skinner's face. "Whatever you want."

"First, I'd better put this on you. I don't think you'll be able to control yourself." Skinner fastened a cock ring on him, and Mulder felt a twinge of anxiety through the lust fogging his brain.

"What - ?"

Skinner smiled and kissed him again. "Hush. Just trust me."

He led Mulder over to the cross, quickly attaching the cuffs to the chains so that Mulder was stretched out along the X shape, smiling to himself at the appropriateness of the structure. Mulder looked over his shoulder anxiously, opening his mouth to speak, and Skinner ran a fingertip over Mulder's lips.

"Hush, my pet. I'm going to take good care of you, take away all the guilt and pain inside. And I'm going to make you feel so good, make you fly." He kissed Mulder briefly. "You remember your safe words? Tell them to me."

"'Kirk' for physical distress, 'Spock' for emotional problems."

"Good boy. I won't blindfold you, but I want you to try to keep your eyes closed. Don't fight me, Kitten, and I promise to make this good for you."

Mulder looked at him with complete trust in his eyes. "I trust you - Master."

Skinner smiled and caressed his sub's face tenderly. "Thank you, my sweet slave. Now close your eyes."

Mulder obeyed, letting his head fall forward as he tried to calm himself. He felt the Dom's hands moving over his back, gently rubbing oil into his skin and loosening his muscles. It felt wonderful and his body relaxed under the attention he was receiving. Those strong hands moved over his shoulders, along his back and chest, over his buttocks, then down his legs and he surrendered willingly to the expert touch. Then the hands were moving over his buttocks again, massaging them harder, and he groaned. He could feel the Dom lean in close to his body and heard him murmur in his ear.

"I like to start with my hand to warm up the area."

Mulder tried to make sense of that comment but his brain seemed to have shut down and his body seemed to have melted. Then a sharp smack across his ass startled him and brought his attention back to his present situation. "Shit!"

"Relax, Kitten," the Dom murmured, his hand soothing away the sting. "Don't fight the sensations. Give into the feelings."

Mulder groaned as the pattern repeated, swats followed by soothing rubs followed by more swats, until his ass felt warm and so sensitive to Skinner's slightest touch that he didn't know whether to beg for more or for Skinner to stop. He needed this, needed the pain to drive back the demons. "Please," he gasped, "Please…"

Skinner moved in close behind him, butter-soft leather rubbing against sensitized skin, and nuzzled his neck. "Talk to me, pet. Tell me what is happening here."

Mulder felt the dark despair in his soul rise up and overwhelm him. He let his head fall forward. "Punishing me - the boy - "

"No, Fox," Skinner said gently. "I told you that this wasn't about punishment. This is about taking care of you, releasing these demons of yours."

Bleakly, Mulder said, "It's not working."

Skinner pressed a kiss against his skin. "I've just started. Trust me."

Mulder nodded weakly. He didn't know how Skinner could possibly drive away the darkness without giving him the pain that he needed but he was willing to put himself into the other man's hands. Skinner stepped back but kept one hand on the sub's body to reassure and anchor him. He slid his left hand over Mulder's abdomen and picked up the paddle with his right, rubbing the padded cloth side against the slightly pink skin. He heard Mulder's soft purr and grinned, then raised the paddle and brought it down with a series of light, firm strokes. Mulder gasped in surprise and then groaned in a way that sounded like pleasure. His left hand moved downward to check Mulder's erection and found that he was definitely enjoying this. Skinner smiled in relief and intensified his attentions.

Mulder gasped at the explosion of sensation that seemed to begin in his ass and vibrate throughout his entire body with each stroke, an intensity of feeling that he had never known before. It was pain and it was pleasure, and it was more intoxicating than the darkness that beckoned to him from inside. The feeling of the soft cloth moving sensually over his heated skin in between blows made him groan with pure pleasure and try to wriggle closer. Another set of strokes, firmer this time, and he could hardly catch his breath under the intense need that consumed him. Something was winding up inside of him, a delicious tension that begged for more - more paddling, more caressing, more attention. He knew that he was saying that word out-loud now, begging and demanding more. He thrust his ass back to meet the blows that were coming steadily now, lifting him onto his toes with their force. He caught his breath on a sob, feeling the darkness and guilt and despair rising inside him, forced to the surface by the emotions that were raging inside. Mulder felt the Dom move in close again, the soothing hand caressing his sensitive flesh as a voice murmured in his ear.

"That's it, my pet. Let it all out. Let me turn the pain to pleasure."

He surrendered to the man who was manipulating him so skillfully. A wet warmth was moving across his heated skin and he realized that Skinner was kneeling behind him, soothing his skin with his tongue. The mental picture of Skinner on his knees, pleasuring him like this, made him moan and try to wriggle closer.

Skinner laughed softly. "That's my little slut. You want something, pet? Something like this?" He ran his tongue over Mulder's sensitive opening and smiled as he set to work, rimming and tongue fucking until his sub was nearly mindless with need. He reached for the massage oil and gently pressed a finger inside, working Mulder open, and then slowly slid a small plug inside.

Mulder groaned at the feeling of penetration and tried to push backward, growling in frustration as the bindings on his wrists and ankles kept him from moving as he wanted. "God - please! Please!"

"You want to come, my pet?"

"Yes!"

"Then talk to me, Kitten. Tell me what this is about."

The plug was moving in and out, slowly fucking him senseless, and he could barely think. "Not - not punishment. Helping. God, feels so good!"

"That's right." The plug was now firmly seated inside him and those skillful hands removed his cock ring. "You've been a very good boy, and I'm very proud of you. I'm going to take you flying now."

"Master - yes - " Mulder moaned as the hands moved away, then sighed as he felt the paddle rest against his skin again. "Yes - more - "

He felt the sting against his skin, the thud that vibrated through his body, and each movement made the plug move deep inside him. His body was overwhelmed with sensation and he felt as if every nerve was on fire. Each stroke moved him higher, carried him away from the darkness trying to claim his soul, lifted him towards the light that hovered just above his touch. And then he was there, the glorious golden light spilling over him, running through his blood like a tidal wave of champagne, and he was laughing and shouting and sobbing all at once before tumbling into the light and letting it carry him away.

Skinner released Mulder from the cuffs, catching the sub as he collapsed and carrying him to the bed. He laid Mulder down on it and then sat down beside him, waiting for him to surface. Memories of all the subs that he had sat beside afterward flooded him, subs who had been blissed out and sated, ones that had been aroused and insatiable, and one who had blazed with a fire that had burned them both. He both longed for and dreaded Mulder's awakening, wondering what direction this would take his lover. Would Mulder want to be cuddled or fucked? Would he be at peace with himself or need more intense stimulation? And if he did need more, would Skinner be able to give that to him.

A few minutes later, Mulder's eyes fluttered open and a lazy grin crossed his face. "Mmmm."

Skinner grinned back at him. "Back among the living? How do you feel?"

"Like you're too far away." Mulder tugged at Skinner and the Dom let him pull him down for a kiss. It was gentle and teasing, and the last of his worries fled. Mulder was obviously at peace within - not to mention aroused. His own erection, which had flagged while he attended to his sub, leapt to life.

Mulder felt the response of the hard body stretched along his and smiled, parting his legs so that Skinner could lie more comfortably between them. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm okay."

Mulder reached down between their bodies and stroked the Dom's cock, feeling the semi-hardness through the soft leather. He looked at Skinner questioningly. "That didn't turn you on? Usually you're so hot after you've been playing with me that you're ready to pound my ass."

Skinner shrugged. "I was concentrating on you."

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "You were thinking about what happened before, and you were afraid to let yourself get too caught up in it. Dammit, Walter, I'm not Krycek!"

"No, you're not." Skinner let a grin cross his face. "Krycek never giggled while he was flying."

"I do _not_ giggle!" Mulder said indignantly.

"Yes, you do." Skinner leaned down to kiss Mulder thoroughly. "And I think it's very cute."

Mulder wrinkled his nose at being called 'cute' but responded to the kiss passionately and let his hands rove over the Dom's clothed body. When Skinner released his mouth, he murmured, "You promised me a reward if I was a good boy."

Skinner grinned and sat up. "I did indeed." He held out his arms. "I'm all yours."

Mulder sat up as well. "Mmm. What an invitation." He pushed Skinner flat on the bed and began working his way down the Dom's body, kissing and fondling every inch of skin he could get to through the open shirt. Reaching the leather pants, he once more nuzzled and fondled the swollen cock through the leather until Skinner was groaning with need. He cast a saucy grin up at the Dom.

"Permission to open these now and suck you off, Sir?"

"Granted," Skinner gasped. "But don't make me come. I want to take that saucy red ass of yours."

"Yes, Sir!" Mulder wasted no time in unlacing the pants and freeing the other man's erection from the cock ring before taking it deep in his mouth. Skinner groaned at the sensation of that talented mouth working him over, licking and sucking and tasting every inch. He resisted the urge to grab the head moving between his legs and set the pace, marveling at how proficient Mulder had become at this over the past year. But the sensation was too much and he finally growled and pushed at Mulder's head.

"Enough! On your hands and knees, my pet. I want to see that beautiful red ass in the air."

Mulder quickly obliged, his shoulders down on the bed and his ass high in the air with his knees spread wide apart. He loved being like this - on his back or his belly, exposed, waiting to be filled and dominated by the other man. He wriggled against the cool fingers as they removed the plug and prepared him, enjoying the coolness against his warm ass. Then the Dom was sliding into him with one long stroke, taking him and claiming him. He pushed back against the welcome invader, relishing the burn as it quickly turned to pleasure. The heat of Skinner's body against his warm ass was deliciously erotic and he found himself rocking backward into the other man, forcing Skinner to quicken his pace. Skinner's hands tightened on his hips and Mulder didn't care if he had bruises the next day as long as the Dom didn't stop what he was doing. He gave into the climax as it enveloped him, shouting out Skinner's name as he came, and heard a low growl as several more deep thrusts brought the other man over the edge.

They collapsed on the bed, Skinner barely remembering to turn them sideways so he wouldn't crush Mulder, and lay there still entwined for a long time. Skinner pressed a sleepy kiss against the back of Mulder's neck and was surprised to hear him laugh softly.

"What's so funny, Fox?"

"Just thinking that maybe I should thank Mason for that paddle after all," Mulder said with a grin. "And are you ever going to tell me about your name being on it?"

Skinner smiled and wrapped his arms more securely around his lover. "Someday, Mulder. If you're lucky."

* * *

Mulder hesitated in the doorway to Mason's office, reluctant to disturb the older man, then said quietly, "Sir?"

Mason looked up and stood, smiling. "Mulder! I'm a little surprised to see you this morning. Where's Walter?"

Mulder came into the office. "Sleeping. I'm on my way to the gym to exercise, stretch out some of the kinks after - um."

Mason noted the flush on the younger man's face and the smile on his face widened. "I take it that Walter used that paddle on you last night and took you flying?"

"Yes, sir." Mulder drew in a deep breath, trying to control the heat on his face. "It was - incredible. I'd never imagined that it could be like that." He gave Mason an uncertain look. "I know you were worried about Walter but I think he's okay. He - um - it didn't turn him on, though."

Mason frowned. "That's not like Walter. He used to get so hot that I could barely keep up with him."

Mulder suppressed a slight stirring of jealousy at the thought of Mason and Skinner together, then was surprised at the sudden flush of heat that filled him at the image that flashed into his mind. "It's okay - I took care of him."

Mason reached out to ruffle Mulder's hair. "You're a good boy, Mulder. You're probably right about Walter but I'll just touch base with him later to be certain."

"Thank you, Sir" Mulder said gratefully.

"Is there anything else?"

"Um - yes. I wanted to - when you gave us the gift I wasn't exactly appreciative, and I just wanted to say - " He suddenly reached out to hug the master Dom. "Thank you, Master Mason."

Mason folded his arms around the younger man, holding him tight for a moment, and smiled. "You're more than welcome, little one. Oh, and Mulder?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You can call me 'Geoffrey'."

Mulder pulled back and smiled. "Yes, Master Geoffrey. Thank you."

"Mulder, you're family now. Anything I can do for you, you know you have only to ask." He gave the sub a last squeeze and then playfully patted his ass. "Now get out of here, boy. I've got work to do and you've got a master to see to."

Mason watched the young man leave and settled back into his chair with a smile. One problem solved, he thought with a sigh of relief, and thought that Sean would be relieved to know that everything was turning out okay for that pair. Then he turned his attention back to his efforts to track down another problem sub who seemed to have vanished.

"Damn it, Alex Krycek - where did you disappear to?" he muttered then picked up the phone to call his old master. He had a feeling that something bad was about to happen if he didn't find that young man. It was time to call for reinforcements.


	43. Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner make a bet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Misty". Also, this chapter is dedicated to Gaby - she sent me the suggestion for this chapter and I loved it so much that I had to do it. Thanks again, Gaby
> 
> TImeline note: The case here refers to "Drive", that it had been moved up a month since the arrest in the beginning of the show doesn't take place (my Mulder and Scully are way too busy to check up on fertilizer). I will be making other adjustments to the timeline to better fit my story.

_Look at me –_ _I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree…_

 

Mulder knelt in the center of the floor, staring at the leather strip in front of him with disfavor. Normally, this was one of his favorite parts of the weekend – kneeling naked in Skinner's Club suite, smoothly shaven, clean inside and out, his eyes fixed on the symbol of his submission while he waited for his Dom to arrive. It was his time to focus on why he was here, what he was while he was here, and to let go of all the outside tensions and responsibilities, to put all his trust in Skinner's capable hands. Some days he just wasn't able to let go and Skinner had recently begun experimenting with ways to help Mulder release his guilt and tension. But today he actually felt pretty relaxed – of course, it helped that his other "team", Agents Spender and Fowley, had been out of the office the last two days on a case. No, today the problem was his collar.

It was a beautiful strip of leather, soft and supple from all the attention that Mulder lavished on it. The collar had been his first gift from Skinner, a present on his birthday the previous year when he had long ago given up the idea of anyone but Scully even remembering the day. The first real present he had received since he was twelve. It had been a symbol of the deepening of the Dom/sub relationship between them but, more than that, it had been a claiming and Mulder had responded by surrendering his whole being to the man who Dominated him. He loved this collar, loved wearing it here at the Club, loved to hold it at home while he cleaned and oiled the leather to keep it supple. If someone had asked him what was his most cherished possession, he would have unhesitantly admitted it was this collar.

And today he stared at it with loathing.

Skinner had borrowed the collar earlier this week at the same time that he had taken the new black paddle that Mason had given them. When he returned both of them to Mulder, the younger man had been delighted to see that "Fox" was now inscribed on the wooden side of the paddle, right below the name "Walter", carved into the wood and painted with gold. It had given him a warm feeling to see that, a sense of completion.

But he hadn't looked at the collar till today.

Laying it out on the floor before him, he had realized that there was something on the inside of the collar, on the part of the leather that would go against his skin. He had flipped it over and looked closely - and then he had started swearing.

There, on the inside of the collar, was carved one word – Kitten.

His sub name. The name that Skinner delighted in calling him, knowing how much he disliked the idea of being called Kitten. Bad enough that Skinner insisted on calling him "Fox" in their personal life, but at least a fox was clever and had keen senses. A kitten was just – cute.

Skinner had put his sub name on his collar and, although it wasn't on the outside where anyone might see it and make a rude comment, it was on the inside, right against his skin. Branding him. Marking him forever with that despised name.

He would kill his lover when he got his hands on him.

The cardlock clicked and the door opened to reveal Skinner standing on the threshold. Mulder looked up, giving the man a withering look, then returned his gaze to the floor in front of him like a proper submissive. Skinner, however, wasn't the least bit fooled and he chuckled.

"Something wrong, boy?"

"I hate that name and you put it on my beautiful collar."

Skinner smiled and closed the door, setting down his bag. "I think it's the perfect name for you."

"It is not!" Mulder said indignantly. "Kittens are – are _cute_!"

Skinner chuckled and crossed the room to caress his indignant sub's head. "And so are you."

"I am _not_ cute! Cute is for babies and small animals! I am _not_ small!"

"No, I'll have to grant you that," Skinner said with a smirk as he cast an appreciative look down Mulder's body. "But nevertheless you _are_ cute. And when you're really feeling content, you make this cu- sexy little purring noise."

Mulder gasped indignantly. "I do _not_ purr!"

"Sorry, Fox, but you definitely _do_ purr." Skinner gestured for Mulder to kneel up and, reluctantly, the sub placed the collar against his neck and bent his head to have it fastened. "Besides, it doesn't matter what you like or don't like. I'm in charge, and I like it, so it sticks."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder said with a sigh, rising to his feet to help Skinner undress. As he hung up the suit and bagged the rest of the clothing for the laundry chute, his mind was busily working over the situation, looking for a way out. An idea struck him and he turned it over in his mind for a minute before speaking. "Sir?"

Skinner paused in belting on his robe and looked over at his sub, wondering what had been going on in Mulder's mind while he had been silently working. "Yes, Kitten?"

Mulder winced. "How about a little wager?"

"What kind of wager?" Skinner asked cautiously.

"You say that I purr like a kitten. Well, if you can make me purr just once over this weekend – and it has to be a real purr, not just the word 'purr' or humming or anything like that – then the sub name stays. If _I_ win, meaning that I don't purr, then you have to stop calling me 'Kitten' and remove that name from my collar."

"I don't _have_ to do anything," Skinner reminded him. "I'm the one who makes the rules here."

"Of course you don't _have_ to," Mulder said, moving close and nuzzling Skinner's neck. "But you will because you're fair and generous."

Skinner wrapped his arms around the warm, naked flesh in his arms and lightly nipped at Mulder's shoulder. "I could point out that what you're doing right now is very kitten-like – rubbing against me and nuzzling my neck."

"But I'm not purring," Mulder pointed out, "So it doesn't count. "What do you say, Sir? Don't you think that you can back up your claim?"

"Don't taunt me, my boy – it won't work and will just earn you punishment." Skinner thought for a moment and then nodded. "All right. You have a bet."

"Yes!" Mulder crowed, pumping his fist.

"Don't start celebrating yet – Kitten. You still have to win the bet," Skinner reminded him.

"I will," Mulder said confidently, turning to the service chute to unload their dinner dishes. "You just wait and see."

* * *

After dinner, Skinner stretched and yawned. "It's been a long week, Fox. I think I'll get a quick shower and then go to sleep."

Mulder gaped at him. "What! But – Walter – I mean, Sir! Aren't we going to play at all tonight?"

"Sorry, babe," Skinner said, hugging his lover and kissing him gently. "But I wouldn't do you any justice tonight – I'd probably fall asleep on you."

"Oh, all right," Mulder grumbled crossly. "It's just that it's been _days_ since we were together and I'm horny as hell."

Skinner chuckled but said, admonishingly, "And if I told you that you wouldn't be coming at all this weekend, it would be within my rights as your Dom to say so. So if I hear one more grumble out of you, I'll be locking that nasty little cock cage that you hate so much on you and it won't come off till Sunday."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder said with a sigh. "Sorry, Sir."

"On the other hand, if you're a good boy, I'll give you a nice long session tomorrow."

Mulder perked up at that. "Really?"

"Um-hmm." Skinner nuzzled his neck. "When I'm done with you, my pet, you'll scream so loud that they'll hear you through the sound-proof walls."

"I like the sound of that," Mulder said, rubbing his body against Skinner's. Then he grinned mischievously at the Dom. "But I won't purr."

"Brat," Skinner growled, smacking his ass lightly. "Dishes and then into bed. And if I even suspect that you're touching yourself, the cage goes on and I send you down for laundry duty instead."

Mulder made a face but said obediently, "Yes, Sir."

He had earned laundry duty for himself twice during their year together, and the idea of being stuck down in the hot basement washing, folding, and ironing laundry while wearing little more than a loincloth when he could be writhing under whatever delicious torment Skinner had planned for him was enough of a threat. On the other hand, the Dom had been particularly sweet to him when he returned to the suite all hot and tired on both occasions, bathing him and then sucking him off. His cock stirred at the memory of that and he immediately began thinking of everything nasty that he could to cool himself off as he set about clearing the table.

Skinner smiled to himself as he stepped into the shower. Mulder thought that he was being pretty clever, setting up this challenge, but Skinner knew he had a whole arsenal of tricks at his disposal. He was confident that before the weekend was over, he would have Mulder purring – and once he won the bet he would teach Mulder a thing or two about challenging his Dom. But first he had to win that bet, and part of that involved making Mulder so hot that he would lose control and forget what he was trying not to do. And that meant that Skinner would have to be in total control of himself.

Mulder was right about one thing – it _had_ been a long time since they had been together. Since they were taking things slowly outside the Club, Mulder was only spending one weeknight at Skinner's, and Tuesday night they had both been too tired to do more than mutual hand jobs before falling asleep in each other's arms. Not that Mulder had slept much, waking from a nightmare brought about from his recent case and babbling something about Skinner's head exploding because Mulder couldn't drive fast enough. Skinner had ended up holding Mulder's shaking body most of the night but in the morning the younger man had seemed to be okay, not haunted like he usually was by such things. Still, Skinner would be glad to be back together under one roof where he could keep a closer eye on his lover – which reminded him that he needed to check with Mulder about how the house hunting was coming.

Meanwhile, the sight of his lover in naked-and-available sub mode was doing dangerous things to his libido and if he hoped to maintain any kind of control, he would have to do something about that. He positioned himself comfortably under the streaming water and took his cock in hand, stroking himself with just the right amount of speed and pressure to bring himself off quickly. Then he washed up and dried off before joining Mulder in the bed.

Mulder rolled over and snuggled into his arms, sleepy despite his earlier protests, and Skinner was thankful that he had taken care of himself in the shower. He wrapped his arms around Mulder and pressed a kiss against his hair, deeply content with life at the moment, and fell asleep.

* * *

Skinner woke to the sensation of something tickling his feet and said, without opening his eyes, "Someone is looking to get himself in big trouble this morning, isn't he?"

There was a chuckle from somewhere near his feet. "Depends on what the punishment involves."

"That's it – you've been hanging around with Sean entirely too much. Come back up here and behave yourself."

Mulder pressed a kiss against Skinner's ankle. "Coming, oh Lord and Master." He slowly moved up Skinner's body, pressing kisses against his skin along the way until he reached his mouth, his body stretched out over Skinner's. "You want me, Sir?"

Skinner groaned, wrapping his arms around Mulder and kissing him hard. "You are such a slut, Fox."

"Mmm," Mulder agreed. "And you wouldn't have me any other way." He sat up, straddling Skinner's hips, and grinned at him. "Anything I can do for you this fine morning, Sir?"

"As a matter of fact, _Kitten_ , you can employ that talented mouth of yours to suck me off." Mulder eagerly bent to take the halfway erect cock in his mouth and Skinner said, warningly, "And don't you dare come, boy."

Mulder made a face at that but eagerly took Skinner's cock in his mouth, using every trick he knew to tease and excite, bringing Skinner to the edge and then backing him off before starting again. When he started to back off a second time, Skinner growled and took control, pumping up into the sub's mouth while Mulder held on and swallowed everything as quickly as he could.

Skinner caught his breath and then pulled Mulder's head away from his softening cock. He made a soft, unhappy sound that sounded like a kitten's mew and Skinner grinned. "That sounded very kittenish to me, boy."

Mulder grinned back and crawled up to nestle his body alongside Skinner's. "But it wasn't a purr."

Skinner chuckled and playfully cuffed the younger man. "Brat. And I think I need my breakfast before I can deal with anything else."

After breakfast, Mulder cleared the dishes and then curled up on the floor next to Skinner's leg, resting against him comfortably while the Dom finished reading the morning paper. Absently, one hand came down to rest on Mulder's head, carding though the soft hair, and Mulder nuzzled into the petting hand. He was feeling content with life at the moment and anticipating an interesting weekend. And it felt good to just relax and let himself drift, letting Skinner handle everything. He closed his eyes and began humming as he relaxed under the petting, barely aware of what he was doing until he heard a soft laugh.

"That sounds suspiciously like purring, my pet."

"It's humming," Mulder murmured sleepily. "There's a difference."

"Sleepy, boy?" Skinner asked softly, putting away the paper and tugging on Mulder's hair. "I believe that I can wake you up."

Mulder obediently crawled up into his lap, nuzzling Skinner's neck. "I like the sound of that."

"Good. A little exercise is just what we need." Skinner kissed the tip of Mulder's nose, grinning at Mulder's protest. "Get dressed and we'll go down to the gym."

Mulder made a face. "I had a different kind of exercise in mind." He rubbed himself against Skinner, his naked skin against the lush warmth of Skinner's robe, and felt the Dom's cock stirring in interest.

"Little slut," Skinner said affectionately. "Plenty of time for that later. Sweats and sneakers, boy."

Mulder sighed. "Later. Always later."

Skinner reached up, taking hold of Mulder by the back of the neck. "I think you're forgetting your place in this relationship, _boy_ ," he growled. He saw Mulder's eyes widen and felt the slight shiver that went through his body at this. "I think I've been a little too lenient with you lately and you need a reminder of just who is in charge." He released Mulder. "Waiting position, boy – _now_!"

Mulder scrambled off his lap, his heart racing. He loved it when Skinner did this, took him deeper into his submission and as he knelt in place he wondered anxiously what the Dom planned to do to him.

Skinner stood in front of the kneeling sub, noting with approval his perfect positioning – back straight, head level, eyes on the floor and hands relaxed on his knees. He took a few steps away and barked, "Supplication!" and Mulder went flat on his belly, arms stretched over his head. He had judged his positioning to perfection, ending up with his face on Skinner's feet and he reverently kissed them.

"Whom do you belong to, boy?"

"You, Sir."

"And who makes the rules?"

"You do, Sir."

"Kneel up, boy."

Mulder obediently pushed back into a kneeling position, this time with his knees spread wide and his hands locked behind his neck, elbows out. He was totally open for almost anything Skinner chose to do to him, and he watched avidly as Skinner walked over to the cabinet. He almost groaned when he saw the Dom pull out the dreaded cock-cage but remained still as Skinner fastened the straps to separate his cock and balls.

"Laundry duty, Sir?" he asked, resigned to his fate.

"Not today, Kitten. I think that they pamper you pretty boys too much down there, and you need a tight leash today."

Mulder liked the sound of that but decided not to make it too easy for Skinner. "Kittens don't go on leashes," he murmured, daringly. "They wiggle out of them."

"Unless you use a harness." Skinner pulled out the rest of the accessories, fastening the belt and then attaching the cock-chain to it. "Ass up, boy, and keep still."

Mulder bent over, touching the floor with his nose and lifting his bottom in the air. He groaned as Skinner caressed the firm flesh and wiggled enticingly, hoping that his Dom would forget whatever he had planned and fuck him through the floor. His hopes were dashed as Skinner smacked him. "Ow!"

"While I appreciate this fine ass of yours and plan to use it to the fullest later, I believe I gave you an order to stay still, didn't I?"

"Yes, Sir." He groaned again and spread his arms to either side to brace his body as Skinner began playing with his hole, teasing him as he circled the outside before plunging a lubed finger into him. Mulder gasped and tried to keep still, not wanting to lose that delicious connection or invite any more punishment. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the sensation of being finger-fucked like this, moaning his pleasure softly.

"You love this, don't you, my slut? You love to have this hungry hole of yours filled, don't you?"

"Yes – Sir," he moaned.

"Such a hot and greedy little sub." Skinner added another finger and felt the infinitesimal rocking of Mulder's body. "One day I'm going to make you take my whole hand. You'd like that, wouldn't you, slut? My hand inside this sweet hole, filling you up, possessing you."

"God – yes – " Mulder groaned. "Do it!"

"Not today, Kitten." Skinner pulled out his fingers and lubed the plug he had ready. "You're not nearly ready for that yet – physically or mentally."

Mulder groaned at the emptiness in his ass. "I can take three fingers," he protested. "It's only two more."

"It's a lot more than just five fingers." Skinner slid the plug into the prepared hole and Mulder moaned his pleasure. "We'll have to talk and you'll have to do some reading before we even attempt that." He fastened a set of chains to the plug, attaching one to the belt and running the other to the cock harness. "Stand up, boy."

Mulder cautiously stood, wincing a little as the plug moved. He wondered how long Skinner was going to make him wear this and just was going on in that devious Dom mind of his.

"All right, time to go work out. Dress me and then put on sweat pants – no shirt or underwear – and come back to me."

Sighing, Mulder obeyed. Skinner pushed his sweat pants down so that he could check that his harness was still in place, then attached a slender leash to a ring on the cock-harness before pulling up the pants again.

"Your leash," he said to Mulder, wagging it in front of the younger man's face. "When we are in public and together, I will hold onto this – and I advise you not to get too far away. Since you are a cat and not a dog, I won't expect you to heel." Mulder rolled his eyes at that and Skinner lightly cuffed him again. "Watch it, boy. I can think of a lot less pleasant ways to spend your day than walking on a leash."

Mulder sighed. "Yes, Sir." He followed as Skinner led the way down to the gym, careful to stay close after he learned that a sharp tug on the leash pulled on both the cock cage and the plug in a way that was both painful and arousing.

The gym was crowded that morning and he glanced longingly at the near-empty pool but knew that there was no chance of doing laps in this get-up. Reluctantly, he followed Skinner into the weight room and prepared to endure a torturous session. Skinner had decided that Mulder needed to build strength in his upper body and had set up a training regime that Mulder was haphazardly following. Mulder had no patience for the endless repetition of lifting and pushing weights, preferring to swim or run laps where he could disengage his mind, but Skinner had tried to convince him that a little strength training would be good for variety.

Mulder groaned silently when he saw three familiar figures over at the bench press and then groaned out loud as Skinner made his way towards them. Scully was doing the lifting with Sean spotting for her while Mason stood to the side giving encouragement, and as Skinner approached, he looked up and smiled.

"Walter! A little early today, aren't you? You two lazybones don't usually drag yourselves out of bed till noon."

Skinner smiled and Mulder flushed at that, knowing that everyone within earshot knew just what they were doing to keep them in bed that late. Sean grinned at that as he handed a towel to Scully.

"You're embarrassing the poor innocent lamb, Geoff," he said in a mock-chiding voice. "And Mountain, you're not corrupting Mulder fast enough."

Skinner appeared to consider this. "Some prefer a fast corruption but I prefer a thorough one."

Mason nodded sagely. "You were always thorough in your work, Walter. And stop teasing Mulder, Sean. I think it's sweet when he blushes like that."

Mulder rolled his eyes. First cute and now sweet. He would really have to do something about his image, he thought. A hand smacked the back of his head. "Ow! What was that for?" he demanded then, as Skinner raised an eyebrow, added, "Sir."

"You are being impolite, my boy. Master Geoff has just paid you a compliment – you do _not_ roll your eyes at him."

Mulder bit back a sigh and said, trying not to grit his teeth, "Sorry, Sir. Thank you, Master Geoff."

Mason smiled. "You are most welcome, little one, even if you don't really appreciate the compliment." He looked Mulder over critically, then looked at Skinner. "He could really use some fattening up and some muscle tone." Skinner nodded and the two began discussing ideas.

Seeing that the two Doms were distracted, Mulder looked over at Scully and grinned. "Looking buff, partner. Mason's got you working out, too?"

Scully nodded. "Upper body strength, mostly."

"Got to be able to swing that whip, huh, Scully?" A sudden yank on his leash startled him. "Ow! Now what did I do?" he demanded.

"Scully is a Domme here, not your partner," Skinner reminded him. "You should address her properly."

Mulder looked at him, appalled. "You want me to call Scully 'Mistress'?"

"Or Ma'am. Don't you think Scully deserves your respect?"

Mulder didn't have to look at Scully to know that she had crossed her arms and was glaring at him. He was trapped. "Um – of course. I – um – apologize for my disrespect, Ma'am."

Scully nodded. "Certainly – boy." She smiled over at Skinner, her eyes twinkling. "I could get used to this."

He laughed but took pity on Mulder, handing the younger man the leash. "Go warm up, Fox. Five laps around the track."

"You two can go do some laps as well," Mason said. "Then hit the showers and we'll meet back at the suite."

Sean and Scully nodded, heading towards the indoor track with Mulder. "Ever get a feeling that you're about to be talked about, Mulder?" Sean asked with a grin.

Mulder sighed. "This day just keeps getting worse and worse."

Scully chuckled, looking him over as they stretched. "Poor Mulder! You look very uncomfortable today. Professional opinion, Sean. What's Mulder wearing on the other end of that leash?"

Sean cocked his head, considering. "Cock cage, probably attached to a belt by chains." As Mulder, ignoring them, started jogging, he added, "And, by the way that he's moving, a butt plug."

"Sean!" Mulder said indignantly, flushing.

Sean chuckled. "Hell, Mulder, that's nothing compared to some of the stuff Geoff's done to me. I expect Dana's gone through a lot, too, knowing my man."

"How come you get to call her 'Dana' and I have to call her 'Ma'am'?" Mulder protested as the three of them fell into step around the track.

Sean looked smug. "Teacher's pet? So – you been a bad boy, Mulder?"

"This?" Mulder asked, indicating the leash. "It's part of a bet – and I'm not going to tell you what the bet's about so don't even ask."

"You made a bet with your Dom?" Sean asked, amused. "Idiot. Don't you know that even if you win you'll lose? They've got some kind of code about getting even."

"It'll be worth it if he just stops calling me – " Mulder realized what he was about to say and bit his lip.

"Ah-hah!" Sean laughed. "It starts to make sense, although I've never heard of one being trained to a leash, except for the big ones, of course. Not the cute, domesticated ones like you."

"If anyone else calls me cute, I'll shoot them," Mulder said grimly.

Scully chuckled. "Poor Mulder," she teased. "You look all ruffled and defensive, like a cat with its back up." He glared at her and her eyes widened. "No! He doesn't call you that, does he? Cat?"

"Worse," Sean murmured, dodging the blow that Mulder aimed at him.

Scully started laughing. "Kitten? Why, Mulder! That's so – sweet."

"Oh, yeah?" Mulder stopped on the track, hands on his hips, and glared at her. "Why don't you tell us _your_ training name, huh? Then we can all laugh about something."

"Not on your life!" Scully retorted.

"That bad, huh?" he asked, grinning. "What about you, Sean? Mason got an atrocious sub name for you, too?"

Sean looked a little wistful. "No, we never played like that, although he uses lots of love-names. Geoff always names the tops he trains, though."

"Yeah? So what was his name for Walter, huh? You've got to tell me."

Sean snorted. "Not bloody likely! I'd have the both of them after my ass!"

"Yeah? Well, right now you'd better worry about me and not them!"

Sean took off running across the track, laughing like a maniac, with Mulder in hot pursuit.

* * *

Mulder woke up from an after-exercise nap, something Skinner had insisted on. Not that he had argued much - being apart from Skinner most nights, he seemed to get little real rest. His couch was too narrow after months of sleeping in Skinner's big bed, and it was colder than he remembered, empty without the feel of his lover's arms wrapped around him. It had been heaven to sleep curled up with that large and solid warmth last night, and even napping alone had been tolerable because of Skinner's presence across the room.

Now he woke to the feel of ghost-like kisses pressed along his arm, moving slowly from his wrist up to his neck, and caught himself as he was about to purr. "Feels nice," he murmured instead. "And I didn't even say anything French."

Skinner chuckled and nipped at his neck. "Are you hungry, brat?"

"Yes." Mulder wrapped an arm around Skinner's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "And I think that Hot Dom makes a wonderful appetizer."

"I had something more nutritional in mind."

"So did I." Mulder's hand drifted downward, cupping the bulge in Skinner's pants.

Skinner laughed again and disengaged Mulder's arms, rolling away to sit up. "Up, Fox."

"I certainly am."

"You're in a frisky mood. I guess that nap really helped."

Mulder sat up and crawled over to Skinner, rubbing up against his back. "Mmm-hmm. I'm rested and raring to go."

"I can tell. You're rubbing against me like a cat in heat."

"But I'm not purring." Mulder nuzzled the back of Skinner's neck. "So - what did you have in mind, O Stern and Studly Master?"

"Dinner."

"And then?"

"Hot sex."

"I like that agenda. Can we skip the first and go right to the end?"

Skinner chuckled and got off the bed, scooping Mulder off as well and setting him on the floor. "Food first. You're going to need your strength."

Mulder grinned. "I like the sound of that even more."

* * *

Several hours later, Mulder might have regretted his words as he lay panting and gasping on the bed. He was spread wide, his limbs cuffed to each corner of the bed, and every inch of his body had been subjected to Skinner's loving attention. His skin tingled from the rough mitt that had been rubbed over it, sensitizing his skin. His nipples ached from the clamps fastened on them and his cock throbbed within its cage. His ass trembled from the workout it had gotten from the dildo that was still inside him. He had long ago given up pleading as his words fell on deaf ears; the Dom had an agenda firmly in mind and wasn't about to deviate from it.

Mulder was in heaven and fervently hoped that it wouldn't end anytime soon.

He groaned as Skinner returned to the bed and stood surveying him with a gleam in his eye. "Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes moving over the sweat-dampened and flushed body of the sub. "You were meant to be like this, my pet. Flushed with pleasure, hot with desire, aching to be taken and filled." He unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the ground. "And that's just what I'm going to do." He unfastened his pants and pushed them down. "I'm going to take you and you're going to come so hard that they'll hear you scream downstairs."

Mulder groaned as another wave of arousal flooded him. "Maybe – but I won't purr."

Skinner growled as he released Mulder's ankles and crawled up the bed to release his wrists. "Oh, you'll purr, my kitten. You'll definitely purr before I'm done with you."

He rolled Mulder over onto his stomach and pulled him up onto his hands and knees. One hand played with the dildo again, moving it in and out slowly before pulling it out and tossing it to the side while the other hand stroked lubricant onto his cock. Before Mulder could even voice a protest, Skinner slid in with one smooth thrust until his balls were resting against Mulder's ass. Mulder groaned at the sensation of being filled again, this time by a hot, thick cock, and pressed backward for more. Skinner held him in place with one hand on his hip as the other hand caressed Mulder's belly before moving down to unfasten the cage and toss it aside. Mulder groaned as his throbbing cock was caressed by a warm hand and bucked into it, desperate for more. He growled as the hand moved away, sliding upward to toy with the clamps, and heard Skinner chuckle as he leaned forward to nip at the back of Mulder's neck.

"Now _that_ 's a familiar sound," he teased. "I've heard that sound from mating cats under my windows back home."

"Not – purring," Mulder gasped.

"You will be," Skinner promised, leaning backward so that he grasp Mulder's hips as he leisurely thrust into the body beneath him. "I'm going to fuck you long and hard. You'll still feel me in you when you're sitting at your desk in the basement tomorrow. Can you picture that, boy? Every move you make, you're going to feel me and know that you're owned."

"Oh, God!" Mulder moaned, his active imagination easily providing that picture. "Please! Need it – need you!"

Skinner leaned forward and placed a kiss on Mulder's spine. "And I need you, and I intend to have you – anytime, anyplace." He resumed his slow fucking while he continued talking. "Can you picture me coming into the basement and laying you down on your desk, your feet in the air as I fuck this tight ass? Or bending you over my desk and reaming you?"

Mulder gasped, his body on fire from the images that Skinner spun. He knew that it wouldn't happen – it was too risky for both of them – but the fantasy was incredible. He could picture himself over Skinner's big desk, pants around his ankles and his tie in his mouth to muffle his screams while Skinner fucked him hard and fast. He felt his balls tighten.

"Gonna – come."

"Not yet, boy. Not till I tell you to."

Mulder swore and desperately tried to stem the rising tide, trying to think of something to cool himself off but his brain had switched off. Skinner had picked up the pace now, fucking him with fast, hard strokes, and Mulder thought that his body would explode. It was so good – so incredibly good – and he needed to come so badly –

Skinner wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer and his strokes became short and fierce, each one angled to strike his pleasure spot just right. Skinner's other hand moved upward, suddenly releasing the clamps on Mulder's nipples, even as his voice growled in Mulder's ear, "Come for me, Kitten. Come for me _now_!"

Mulder couldn't have stopped even if he had wanted to. His body bucked hard against the cock impaling him and he screamed as he exploded into a million pieces and collapsed into darkness.

* * *

Mulder woke slowly with the lazy lassitude from being fucked unconscious. His body felt deliciously heavy and sated and he was quite content with the world. He realized that immediately after he passed out, Skinner must have turned them on their sides. The Dom was spooned up against his back, his arms wrapped around Mulder's waist, and as Mulder stretched slightly, he realized that Skinner's half-erect cock was still inside of him. He smiled, reveling in the thought of being close like this as they slept, and he let a soft, contented noise vibrate through his chest as he let his eyes drift closed again. Then his eyes popped open and he held his breath.

Damn! He had just purred!

Anxiously, he listened for any sound from the man behind him, but all he heard was Skinner's soft breathing as he slept. Mulder grinned, barely containing the laugh that wanted to roll out of him. Here Skinner was – so close to him that they could almost be one person, his cock actually still inside Mulder, and he had missed the whole damn proof of his claim.

 _I'm just too smart for him_ , Mulder thought smugly, and contentedly closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

He felt a slight stirring in the man behind him, the instinctive half-thrust of Skinner's body to keep himself seated within Mulder, and the feeling of a sleepy kiss brushed against the back of his neck. Then Skinner was leaning forward, nuzzling his ear, before he said, softly,

"Gotcha – Kitten."

 


	44. Milestones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During an important anniversary for Mulder and Skinner, important decisions are made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: The T-shirts mentioned in the chapter are real – and I own one of them (you'll have to guess which one ).  
> Chapter quote comes from "When You Say Nothing at All" by Keith Whitley.   
> EPISODE NOTE: Although the X-File referred to in this chapter ("Term of Endearment") was shown later on in the year, the internal elements of the show indicate that it takes place in the early fall, so I've moved it there in my timeline. So "Terms" takes place between "Drive" and "Triangle" in my timeline.

_It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart_   
_Without saying a word, you light up the dark._   
_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me._   
_There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me.  
_ _A touch of your hand, says you'll catch me if ever I fall._   
  
_You say it best when you say nothing at all._

 

**Tuesday, October 9**

Mulder stared at the report in front of him in disgust. The neat black and white had been completely disfigured by red slashes and nearly unintelligible comments in the margins. The net result of it all was clear – this was a do-over.

He grimaced as he pulled up the original report on his computer. At times like this, he really missed having Skinner as their supervisor. Sure, the man had been a hard-ass and it had been nearly impossible to slip anything past him, but at least he had been willing to listen. A.D. Kersh was turning out to be just plain unreasonable. Mulder really thought that he had bent over backwards on this report, downplaying the more unbelievable aspects – and not once had he ranted about government conspiracies, although it was plain that the military had known more about the testing and its effects than they let on. Even Scully had given her blessing to the report - after first checking him for fever.

Mulder concentrated on the report, trying not to let the narrow-mindedness of his current boss get to him. He heard the door open and glanced up briefly, expecting it to be one of his team members, and then did a double take. A slow smile crossed his face and he stood up.

"Hello, sir," he said. "This is an unexpected pleasure."

"Agent Mulder," Skinner said, nodding his head. His eyes locked on his lover's, conveying his own pleasure at seeing Mulder after being apart for almost a week while he was out of town, although he couldn't say anything out loud for fear of unseen listeners. "It's been awhile, now that you're not reporting to me."

Mulder grinned. "What _do_ you do for excitement now, sir?"

Skinner chuckled. "Oh, I manage to keep myself amused." He held out a folder. "This came through one of my departments and it sounded like it was more in keeping with your - special skills."

Mulder's grin widened. "Why do I suddenly feel like changing into tights and announcing 'This is a job for Monster Boy!'?"

Dryly, Skinner said, "I believe that your usual suit will do just fine, Agent Mulder. Normally, this would have come through official channels, but since AD Kersh is out for a few days, I brought this down to you personally."

Mulder took the file and flipped it open, glancing at the report on the abduction of a fetus. "Is there anything you can tell me about this case, sir?"

"I'd be glad to, Agent Mulder." Skinner glanced at his watch. "But I'm due at a meeting in a few minutes. Perhaps I can discuss the details with you and Agent Scully over lunch at the Capital Grille."

The smile that lit up Mulder's face made Skinner's trip to the basement all worthwhile, and he found himself smiling back.

"Certainly, sir."

"Good. I'll meet you both at the restaurant at noon. There's a reservation in my name." Skinner turned and quickly left before that smile made him do something foolish like pulling Mulder into his arms for a quick kiss. And, as he encountered Agents Fowley and Spender coming back into the office, he was glad that he had been cautious. He nodded to them briefly and made his escape.

Mulder settled back down at his desk and opened the folder again, noting the report of the woman involved with interest. He glanced up briefly as Fowley and Spender entered, resisting the urge to frown as his peace and quiet was interrupted. Fowley headed for the second desk, claiming the chair as if by right, while Spender settled for leaning against the desk. In theory, only Mulder had an "official" desk here in the basement while the other three agents on his team, Scully, Spender and Fowley, had desks with the other agents upstairs. In practice, Fowley made herself at home in the basement office whenever her team was in town with the excuse that, as the other senior agent, she needed to be there. Spender generally followed her; Mulder wasn't sure if it was because he was afraid of being left out of anything or because he knew that his presence annoyed Mulder. Both, he suspected. In any case, Scully made a habit of being elsewhere whenever she could while the second team was in town.

"So," Spender said, sitting on a corner of the second desk. "What did Skinner want?"

"A.D. Skinner had a case to refer to the department," Mulder said in his blandest tone, slightly emphasizing the man's title. As Fowley started to reach for the file, he pulled it back. "It's not ready for an active investigation yet," he said, ignoring the suspicious look in her eyes. "I haven't had a chance to look over the information and see if it's really an X-File."

"Fox, I think I'm capable – " Fowley began.

"Of taking on a tougher assignment?" Mulder asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly as he picked up another folder and held it out to her. "I agree – and I think you're ready to handle this one."

Reluctantly, Fowley accepted the new folder and opened it. "What is it about?"

"Poltergeist phenomena, seemingly centered around a pre-teen girl," Mulder said, leaning back in his chair and watching her. "You know the methods – you'll be able to determine if this is a manifestation of the girl's latent psi abilities, the actions of a supernatural entity, or a hoax."

He had already determined that it was a hoax set up by the family in an attempt to get media attention – and money – but he had no qualms about sending Fowley and Spender out to check it out. A few days of peace and quiet, and having Scully back in the basement with him, were worth Spender's inevitable smugness on their return.

"A.D. Kersh approved the 302 before he left," he added. "I think it's important to check this one out as soon as possible as we know that changes in adolescents can be important in regard to this phenomena." And before the family can skip town, he thought to himself.

Spender peered over Fowley's shoulder. "Well, at least it's somewhere decent for a change. New Orleans." He headed towards the door. "Come on, partner. We'd better check in with the Travel office if we don't want to end up in another of those God-awful motels like they put us in last time."

Fowley nodded slowly, saying, "You go ahead, Jeff. I'll be there in a minute."

Spender's eyes narrowed but he shrugged and left. Fowley sat on the edge of the desk and said softly, "It's too bad that this case came up right now. I was thinking that I could take you out to dinner this weekend, to celebrate your birthday."

Mulder tried not to wince at that thought. "That's all right, Diana. I already have plans."

Fowley smirked. "I'd hardly call sitting around your apartment, drinking beer and watching television, _plans_." She smiled and leaned forward slightly, invading his space even more. "What I had in mind would be a lot more fun. And I expect that we could postpone this case for a few days…"

Mulder resisted the urge to push away from her and said, quietly, "Diana, I told you months ago that I'm seeing someone and that it's serious. That hasn't changed."

Fowley sat back, scowling. "I see. And I suppose that she is taking you out to dinner."

"We'll be spending the weekend together," Mulder said evenly.

"The whole weekend?" The door opened and Fowley turned her head to see Scully standing in the open doorway. "Well, I expect Agent Spender is waiting impatiently upstairs, so I better join him."

Slowly, she got up and picked up her purse, coat, and the case folder, then headed towards the doorway. As she passed Scully, she paused and said, "Any plans for the weekend, Agent Scully?"

Scully met her suspicious eyes without hesitation. "As a matter of fact, I'll be spending the weekend with friends."

Fowley glanced back once more at Mulder who had quickly turned his attention to the new case folder, then briskly headed down the hallway. Scully set down her purse and folders on the other desk, _her_ desk, and looked over at Mulder with a teasing smile on her face.

"You know, I'm tempted to tell your S.O. about your betrayal."

Mulder snorted and set down the folder. "Right. Like _that_ would be believed."

"I don't know. From where I stood, it looked like Agent Fowley was practically in your lap."

"Agent Fowley would _like_ to be in my lap."

"Agent Fowley would like to be in your _pants_."

Mulder grinned at that. "I'm afraid that Agent Fowley is doomed to be disappointed. These pants and all they contain are the exclusive property of another party."

Scully rolled her eyes at that. "Mulder, you're such a romantic."

Mulder chuckled. "In any event, Scully, we have a new case and I hope that you don't have plans for lunch."

Scully groaned. "What are you subjecting me to now, Mulder? I don't even have a bag packed–"

"Relax, Scully. We're having lunch with the person transferring the case to us. He's going to brief us on the background."

Still suspicious, Scully said, "Where? One of your favorite little dives?"

"Nope. The Grille."

Scully raised an eyebrow. "Then I assume that you aren't paying."

"Why, Scully, you wound me!" Mulder picked up his coat. "Come on, partner. I'm hungry."

They chose to walk to the restaurant since the weather was nice. Mulder gave the desk the reservation information, and Scully's mouth quirked slightly when she heard the name 'Skinner' but she didn't say anything. The waiter took their drink order and she sat back in her chair, eyeing Mulder with amused suspicion.

"I thought you said that this was about a case."

"It is, honest. Walter has an X-File to refer to us - demons and everything."

"Do I want to know what this case is about, or is it going to ruin my appetite?"

Mulder snorted. "You, Scully? I've seen you do an autopsy report while eating a sandwich. Why should you think this would be worse?"

"Oh, I don't know. Years of experience, perhaps?"

"Watching the Comedy Channel this morning, Scully? You seem to be in top form - " Mulder broke off in mid-sentence and a sudden smile lit his face.

Scully smothered a smile of her own and murmured, "Mulder, stop that. I didn't bring my sunglasses."

"Huh?" He swiveled his attention back to her.

"You're glowing. I don't even have to turn around to know who just walked in."

Mulder looked indignant. "I don't glow."

"I have to disagree with you on this. You are definitely glowing." She looked up as Skinner joined them. "Good afternoon, sir. You're just in time to settle a question."

"About what?" Skinner asked, sitting down.

"Mulder says that he doesn't glow. I said that he does and that he is right now."

"Scully!" Mulder hissed as he sat back down.

Skinner cast an appraising look over at Mulder, a hint of a smile hovering on his mouth. "Sorry, Mulder, but I think your observant partner is right. You're definitely glowing." He unfolded his napkin, saying blandly, "Anything you need to tell me, Fox?"

Scully pressed her hand over her mouth to cover a surprised laugh while Mulder flushed and hissed, "Walter! Not you, too! What is this - pick on Mulder day?"

"Sorry, Fox," Skinner murmured, unrepentant. "I couldn't resist."

"You didn't even try," Mulder muttered, taking a long drink of water and resisting the urge to press an ice cube against his burning skin.

"So, sir, Mulder says that you are referring a case to us," Scully said, taking pity on her partner and giving him a chance to recover. "Or is this part of a elaborate scheme to wrangle a mid-week meeting?"

"Feeling like you're being used, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked, refraining from looking over at his lover as he gave an agonized groan. "No, the case is legitimate, my schedule is full, and lunch was the only free time I had to discuss it."

Mulder sobered immediately. "Then I take it you'll be working late tonight?" At Skinner's nod, he sighed. "This sucks. If this case is legit, we'll be heading to Roanoke in the morning. I was hoping - "

"So was I," Skinner said softly, looking down at the table, knowing that his heart would be in his eyes for all to see if he looked at Mulder right now. "We'll have this weekend, though."

"If the case is solved by then," Mulder sighed.

"It better be, Agent, or I'll come after you and drag your ass home," Skinner growled.

Mulder grinned at that. "God, I love it when you go primal."

"Which explains your antics over the past five years." Skinner turned back to Scully who had been sitting silently through this exchange. "Why don't we order, and then I'll tell you what I know about this case?"

Scully exchanged a speaking look with Mulder, and then turned her attention to Skinner. "Sounds good, sir. Do you mind my asking how you got this case?"

"Not at all. Violent Crimes was contacted by the Roanoke sheriff's department concerning the abduction of an unborn child. What will be of particular interest to you, Mulder, is the woman's description of the identity of the...entity that took the child…"

* * *

As they left the restaurant, Scully glared pointedly at Mulder. "What?" he said, defensively. "What did I do?"

"You know very well what you did, Mulder - or what you didn't do. When do you plan on telling him about the houses you found?"

Mulder flushed and looked down at his feet. "Soon. I promise."

"Mulder - "

"Don't push me, Scully. This whole thing scares the hell out of me. I mean, think about it. Me, Fox Mulder, living in domestic bliss? Who am I trying to kid? I'll bet that I drive him away within a month."

"Give the man a little credit, Mulder. He's crazy about you and he's old enough to know his mind. He knows better than either of us how tough marriage can be and he's still willing to risk it."

Mulder sighed. "I know. And God knows that I love him for that, for his certainty. But still - "

"But still nothing. I saw you two in there and you're miserable apart. I've watched you over the past two months since you got back together, and I know that you're not sleeping or eating right when you're at your place. I've seen you come into the office on Monday after you've been together, looking ready to grab the world by the tail, but by Friday you look like hell again. I can even tell when you've spent a weeknight with him by the way you look in the morning."

"If you say 'glow' again - "

She laughed, and laid a hand on his arm. "I won't. I promise. But I think you should talk to him this weekend, okay?"

"Okay, okay. Now, what do you say we head back to the office and start working on this case. When we get to Roanoke, I want you to check out the OB records while I hook up with Deputy Stevens and go out to his sister's house."

"All right, Mulder, but I think this sounds like a drug-induced miscarriage to me, not a - what did you call it?"

"A demon fetal harvest. Come on, Scully - keep an open mind on this one. There've been records of women claiming such things since the Middle Ages."

"Right. And Rosemary's Baby just happened to be playing on cable that night."

"It was? Damn! And I missed it - I could have brushed up on a few pointers." Mulder ducked the mock blow Scully aimed at him and ran all the way back to the office.

* * *

**Wednesday, October 10**

 

Mason unlocked the door to one of the lesser-used Club playrooms, one currently listed as "under renovation". Balancing the tray he held in his hands, he entered and locked the door behind him. He set the tray on the table and then looked across at the room's sole occupant. The young man sat on a thick mat, his back against the wall, hands restlessly rubbing at the cuffs locked around his wrist. Baleful green eyes glared back at Mason, although he thought he detected a flash of relief in them as well.

"Why, Alex, you don't look happy to see me."

"At least this answers my question of 'where' I am. Now perhaps you'll tell me what the hell I'm doing here?" Krycek yanked at the chains that attached him to the wall. "And why you've got me chained to your fucking wall."

Mason smiled in amusement. "That's one thing I remember clearly about you, Krycek - your ability to hurl insults in the most precarious of situations." He pulled a chair away from the table and straddled it, facing the younger man. "To answer your questions: yes, you are at the Club and you are here because of a promise that I made to an old friend. And you are chained up because I wanted you to remain here long enough to talk. You're an extremely difficult man to get in touch with."

Krycek snorted. "Next time I decide to go into hiding to save my life, I'll be sure to leave you a forwarding address."

"I'd appreciate that," Mason said, his lips twitching.

Krycek rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He was so tired, and it had been so long since he had been able to really sleep. "So talk. I'm a - you'll forgive the term - captive audience."

"Actually, I thought you might be able to concentrate on our conversation better without the cuffs. After a hot shower and over a meal."

Krycek was tempted. Since the Englishman's safe house had been raided and he had been forced to run for it - again - he seemed to have had little time for such luxuries as a full night's sleep, much less showers and decent meals. His temporary havens during the past two months had been little more than brief shelter or a way to pick up quick money, and definitely not places to let down his guard. Still, Krycek looked at the Dom suspiciously. "And the catch would be?"

"You have to promise to behave yourself, which means not clubbing me over the head, grabbing the keys, and running."

Krycek snorted. "Right. Like you'd believe any promise I gave you."

"I'd believe you, Alex."

Krycek opened his eyes and stared over at the older man, incredulous. The man was an idiot, he thought in amusement, the words of a false promise ready on his lips. But there was something in Mason's eyes, something that made the lie dry up unvoiced. He swallowed hard then finally croaked, "All right. I promise."

"Good." Mason smiled, a genuine smile of approval, and Krycek was startled at the sudden warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Mason produced the keys and unlocked the handcuffs, and Krycek sat for a moment, rubbing his wrists.

Feeling disgusted with himself for letting emotions sway him against his better judgment, he snarled, "You said something about a shower?"

Mason nodded his head towards the door at the back of the room. "In there. I'm sure you're familiar with the layout. And you'll find a change of clothes as well - I borrowed a sweat suit from Mulder since you seem to be about the same size."

Krycek pushed himself up from the floor and walked into the changing room. He stripped off his clothes, which had seen better days, and consigned them to the trash, then stepped into the shower. For a long time, he just stood under the hot water, letting it wash away everything - dirt, fatigue, the aching of his body. Finally, he roused himself enough to grab the soap and thoroughly scrubbed, rinsed, and then forced himself out of the shower. He dragged on the pair of sweats sitting on the side of the sink, trying not to think that the last person who had worn them was Mulder, and squared his shoulders. Time to find out just what it was that Mason really wanted.

Mason had uncovered the tray and set it out on the table, and Krycek's stomach growled at the delicious scents filling the air. He sat down, slightly amused to see that the table setting didn't include a knife. Apparently Mason's trust didn't extend that far. He hesitated for only a moment and then dug in, eating voraciously.

When he finished eating, he sat back in his chair with a sigh and looked over at Mason. He expected to see a smug look on the man's face but was surprised to see only gentle concern.

"Been awhile?" he asked and then stood up. "I saw you wincing. Take off the shirt and let me look at your back." Mason walked into the changing room and returned carrying the first aid kit. Seeing that Krycek hadn't made a move, he said sternly, "Are you going to take off the shirt or do I take it off for you?"

Reluctantly, Krycek pulled the sweatshirt over his head and leaned forward. Mason didn't say anything as he examined the welts covering the younger man's back, just pulled out the gauze and antiseptic. Krycek winced as he felt the sting but he dug his fingers into his leg and refused to make a sound, waiting for the questions that were sure to follow. Finally he couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"Well? Aren't you going to ask where I got those?"

Mason snipped off a piece of surgical tape. "I don't have to. But you will excuse my saying that you were an idiot to go to that sadist and were lucky not to get worse. I hope he paid you well enough to make this worth it."

Krycek shrugged and then winced at the pain. "My options were limited and it was only one night. I needed the money." Mason was silent but Krycek doubted that it was due to him having shocked the older man. "And if you knew where I was, I guess that explains how your people were able to snatch me this morning. The Network watching him?"

Mason looked at him sharply. "And how do you know about the Network?"

Krycek snorted. "Don't be an idiot, Mason. You knew that the Old Man was the local enforcer. Did you really think he would soil his hands with the dirty end of the business?"

"Then I suppose we have you to credit for Benett's - removal."

Krycek's face hardened. "I would have done that one for free." He hesitated. "How is Mulder?"

"He got past it, for the most part. He and Walter are doing okay - no thanks to your former playmate, Spender. At least you've had enough sense to stay away from that man – and yes, my friends are watching him, too. They've been watching him for a long time." He finished bandaging the worst of the welts. "Okay, I'm done. You can put the shirt back on."

Krycek complied, cursing himself for the shakiness of his hands. "You done with the twenty questions? Time to chain me back to the wall?"

"No. You're free to go, Alex."

Krycek looked at him suspiciously. "You had me brought here just for this?"

"I wanted to make sure that you were all right. And to warn you about your playmates." Mason got up and unlocked the door, tossing the keys back onto the table as he sat back down.

"Right. And what about your Network friends? Are they waiting outside to take care of me?"

Mason shook his head. "No. You're free to walk out that door right now, go back to where you were or anywhere else. There's even a car in the garage with the keys in the ignition if you need it. Although I have another alternative to propose."

Krycek was surprised at the disappointment he felt. Of course Mason had an angle. They all did; all of them wanted something out of him. Even - "Of course. Name your terms."

Mason laid a keycard on the table. "No terms, just a haven. Smythe's old suite. You're welcome to stay here as long as you want."

Krycek gaped at him. "You've got to be kidding!"

"Why? You look like you could use a little time to recover, get your strength back."

"And then?"

Mason shrugged. "Whatever you want. If you'd like, I could make a couple introductions. No one local, of course. However, I have to tell you - "

"Here it comes," Krycek muttered.

Mason set a sealed envelope on the table. "- that Smythe left this for you. And before you ask, no, I didn't look. I don't want to know."

Krycek snorted. "That's not the Mason I remember."

Mason's face tightened. "I've learned to make a few compromises over the years."

His voice sounded bleak and Krycek felt an unexpected - and unwanted - moment of sympathy. "Yeah. I - um - I'm sorry about the kid. You know that I didn't have anything to do with that."

"If I thought that you did, you wouldn't be here right now. I would have killed you at the first opportunity."

Krycek felt a shiver run up his spine at the pure ice in that voice. He remembered the Old Man's vague comments that Mason was not a man to be trifled with, and he had never been more certain of that than now.

He hesitated and then opened the envelope, already knowing what would inside – a contact name, an address, someone inside the Consortium who was looking for someone with his skills. Someone to put him back into the game. He glanced at the name and whistled silently – the Old Man had outdone himself this time. If he played his cards right, he'd be able to climb as high as he wanted in the Consortium.

Part of him rebelled. They'd already tried to take him out twice - maybe next time they would succeed. And he was so damned tired of all the games. It would be so good to rest, just for a little while…

On the other hand, if he quit now, They won.

His decision made, he picked up the envelope and left the keycard sitting on the table. He glanced over at Mason and was surprised to see sadness on the man's face. He cleared his throat and stood up. "So, I'm free to go?"

Mason nodded, then picked up the keycard and put it in his pocket. "My offer still stands. If you need sanctuary, day or night, you are welcome here."

Krycek swallowed around an unexpected lump in his throat and nodded. Then he opened the door and walked out, not looking back.

* * *

**Thursday, October 11**

 

"Hi, there. How are you doing?"

Mulder smiled at the soft concern in the voice on the other end of the phone. "Okay," he said, dropping onto the couch and stretching out. "Everything finished but the paperwork."

"That's not what I'm asking, Fox, and you know it."

Mulder sighed and covered his face with his arm. "I'm _fine_ , Walter. I've been through tougher cases than this. Scully's the one to worry about."

"Scully is Mason's problem at the moment, and I already clued him in. _You_ , on the other hand, are my problem, and one that I intend to handle with a firm hand, so don't even try to wiggle out of this."

"God, I love it when you get all macho like that."

"I believe you've mentioned that in the past. So stop being a bad boy looking for a spanking and tell me honestly how you're feeling."

Mulder chuckled at that and said, with a seductive purr, "If I'm a good boy, can I still get a spanking?"

Skinner laughed but said, "You've been hanging around Sean entirely too much, Mulder. And you're not answering my question."

"Honestly, Walter, I'm fine. Sad – hell, yeah. I can't believe any sentient creature would kill an infant. But it didn't bring up any bad memories of Samantha, if that's what you're worried about."

"Good. Now - about this weekend. You still want to celebrate at the Club, or would you prefer something a little more low-key. We could just kick back at my place, or go up to the cabin, or I could take you away from all this to a little B&B I know - "

"Walter, stop hovering. I'm fine. I don’t need any special treatment. And I want to spend this weekend at the Club." Mulder let the sharp tone drop out of his voice and said, softly, "I have fond memories of a year ago that I'd like to relive."

"I think I can arrange that," Skinner said, indulgently. "I'll meet you there tomorrow night at seven." Softly, he added, "Sleep well, Mulder."

Mulder murmured, "You, too." Then he disconnected and lay there, staring up into the darkness with a smile on his face for a long time before falling into untroubled dreams.

* * *

**Friday, October 12**

 

Mulder set down his bag and signed in on the Club register, picking up the keycard. A familiar touch on his shoulder made him look around in consternation.

"Walter! You're early - I haven't had a chance to get ready!"

Skinner smiled and reached around him to sign the register. "I know. I wanted to catch you first. I thought that we might be a little occupied tomorrow night, so I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight as a kick-off to your birthday."

"You're a softie, Walter," Mulder said with a grin, which became wider when he saw the shirt that Skinner was wearing. "And a braver man than me if you're planning on wearing that shirt into the dining room."

Skinner looked down at the T-shirt that announced in bold letters "It's not a bald head - it's a Solar panel for a Sex machine" and then grinned back at Mulder. "It was a birthday present from a certain audacious sub I know."

Mulder was touched – although he hadn't been able to resist buying the shirt, he hadn't expected his lover to actually wear it. He wrapped his arms around Skinner and said, softly, "Thanks, Walter. And dinner sounds great."

Skinner handed their bags to the desk clerk, asking that they be taken up to his suite. They headed towards the dining room, only to be intercepted by Sean.

"Hi, guys! How's our birthday boy?"

Mulder flushed and directed a sideways glare at Skinner. "How did you find out about that?"

Sean grinned. "Easy, Mulder. Your man didn't spill the beans. Jean-Pierre just happened to note your birthday dinner last year in his calendar. And I can't resist an opportunity to party. So come along and accept your medicine like a good boy, or we'll start your birthday spankings right here."

Mulder snorted at that. "You and what army?"

"How about me, for starters?"

Mulder nearly jumped out of his skin, swinging around to stare at Mason, who seemed to have appeared out of thin air. "Master Geoffrey!"

Mason slowly advanced on the wide-eyed sub, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt. "I've been itching to apply my hand to your backside for a long time, Mulder, and I can't think of a better occasion on which to start."

Mulder backed away, casting an imploring look at Skinner. "Walter!"

Skinner started to step forward then, at the mock glare Mason threw him, stopped and flung up his hands in laughing surrender. "You're on your own, Fox."

Mulder grabbed Sean's arm. "Okay, okay! I'll go peacefully!"

Smugly, Sean said, "I thought you'd see it my way." Holding firmly onto Mulder's arm, he practically dragged him upstairs to one of the playrooms. Throwing open the door, he said, "Okay, guys, here he is! Let the partying begin!"

"I'll get you for this, Sean," Mulder said in a mock-threatening tone, then looked around nervously for Mason, relieved to see that the Dom was out of earshot. Secretly, he was touched by the thought that Sean had done this for him - it had been a long time since anyone but his lover had gone to this much trouble for him. He saw his partner heading his way and grinned. "Hello, Scully. You got roped into this, too?"

"Are you kidding? I helped plan it." She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Happy birthday, partner."

Mulder flushed, hugging her back. "Thanks, Scully," he said softly. Letting her go, he caught sight of the Gunmen and laughed. "Not you guys, too!"

Frohike grinned. "Wouldn't miss it, Mulder." He hugged Mulder. "Happy birthday, buddy."

Mulder turned to Langley and Byers, grinning. "So – has Frohike persuaded you two to join our little den of iniquity?"

Langley snorted as Byers blanched. "No way, man, but we couldn't turn down a party. 'Bout time, too."

Byers nodded. "Langley's right – it's about time we gave you a real birthday celebration."

"I don't do birthdays, guys. You know that."

"You know, Mulder," Langley said confidentially. "I don't think you've got much of a choice anymore. That dude Sean may be _little_ , but once he makes up his mind, he doesn't take 'No' for an answer."

Mulder saw Sean approaching him, gifts in hand and a mischievous look in his eyes, and he groaned. "I have a feeling that you're right. Maybe I should have settled for the spanking instead."

* * *

Some hours later, Mulder lay sprawled on a pile of cushions off to one side of the room, contentedly nursing a beer and watching the party winding down around him. Much to his own surprise, he had enjoyed the party. It had been laid-back with lots of food and music, interspersed with casual gift giving. He had even gotten to slow-dance once with his lover, something he hadn't done in public since New Year's Eve. Sean had been everywhere, making sure that he was enjoying himself, and now the younger man plopped down on a cushion next to him, grinning.

"So, Mulder – having a good time in spite of yourself?"

"Having a great time, thanks. This is the second best birthday ever, just behind last year when Walter gave me my collar."

Sean rolled onto his stomach, looking at him in surprise. "You're kidding. I thought this was pretty low key but Scully said you'd prefer it like this."

Mulder nodded, looking up at his partner as she joined them. "Definitely. Thanks, guys." Scully nodded in reply but Mulder could tell that she was pleased by the look on her face.

"This a private gathering, or can anyone join?" Byers asked, smiling as he walked over to them.

"Well, we were just about to start an orgy, but since you’re here, we'll behave," Mulder said with a grin.

Byers settled onto one of the cushions. "Don't stop on my account."

Mulder laughed. "God, Byers, we're corrupting you! Next thing we know, you'll be running around the Gunmen headquarters in leather and chains."

"Now _that_ I'd be willing to pay money to see," Frohike said with a smirk as he joined them, Langley in tow. "Having a good time, pal?"

Mulder nodded, grinning. "Best time I've ever had with my clothes on."

"And that's _way_ too much information," Langley said with a snort.

Skinner strolled over and looked down at the sprawled group. "This looks like an interesting huddle. Mind if I borrow Mulder for a minute?"

"As long as you return him in reasonably good shape," Sean said with a grin.

Skinner smiled at that, giving Mulder a hand up from the floor. Ignoring their interested audience, he pulled a small box out of his pocket. "I wanted to give you something special like the collar last year, but something you could wear outside of here as well without being too obvious." He handed Mulder the box. "I hope you like it."

Mulder slowly opened the box and stared in surprise at a small, elegant gold earring bearing Skinner's Club insignia. "Walter, it's – beautiful." He touched a finger to the design, tracing over the tiny lines. "I've never seen anything like this. Thank you."

Skinner breathed a sigh or relief, having debated with himself for days about giving Mulder this gift. The last thing he wanted to do was seem too possessive or scare his lover off. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it. I'll get my ear pierced on Monday – "

"No need to wait, mate," Sean said, getting up. "We're equipped with all the necessities here. Won't take a moment to fetch them, if you want to do it now."

Mulder looked around at his assembled friends and smiled. "I can't think of a better time or place. Walter?" Skinner nodded. "It's settled. Fetch your implements, Sean."

As Sean went off, Skinner cleared off a section of a table for Mulder to sit on while Scully fetched the first aid kit from the changing room. Skinner cleaned Mulder's earlobe carefully, marked the location for the earring, then took the piercing gun from Sean and set the earring in it. Locking eyes with Mulder, he said, "Are you ready, Fox?"

Mulder nodded, not taking his eyes away from his lover. Drowning deep in brown eyes, he barely felt the sting as the earring pierced his lobe. Softly, so that only Skinner could hear him, he said, "You know that this means more than just me wearing your symbol. Now you belong to me as surely as I belong to you."

Skinner fastened the back on the earring, letting his hand move to caress Mulder's cheek as he smiled. And he had worried about Mulder overreacting in response to _his_ possessive nature!

"I know," he said, just as softly. "But I've always belonged to you." Mulder leaned forward, his lips meeting Skinner's, and Skinner wrapped his arms around him, returning the kiss with enthusiasm.

"Hey, you two," Frohike said with a laugh. "Get a room, for God's sake! You're corrupting poor Langley and making the rest of us jealous."

Skinner released Mulder, although reluctantly. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" With one arm wrapped around Mulder, he steered the younger man towards the door. "Good night, everyone."

"'Night!" Mulder called as he was pulled out the door. "Thanks for the party!"

"Wait!" Sean called, running after them and thrusting boxes into Mulder's arms. "You forgot these."

"Thanks," Mulder said, taking the presents and handing them to Skinner so that he could hug Sean. "And I mean that, Sean. Thanks for everything. It was the best party I've ever had."

Sean hugged him tight for a moment, murmuring, "Hey, how could I let your birthday go by unnoticed? We're mates, right?" He let Mulder go, pushing him gently towards Skinner. "Now go take that man of yours to bed and celebrate."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Mulder said, wrapping his arm around his lover's waist.

Sean stood watching them disappear down the hallway, an amused but tolerant smile on his face. An arm wrapping around his waist and a soft kiss pressed against his hair made him smile even wider. He leaned back into his lover's arms and sighed in contentment.

"I think Mulder enjoyed the party," Mason murmured into his ear.

Sean grinned. "Yeah - despite himself. Just wait till next year's bash, though – he won't know what hit him. I'd better start planning for that one now." Mason's arms tightened involuntarily around him and Sean squeezed the hand resting on his belly. "Relax, love, and have faith in the future."

"I do," Mason murmured, stroking the red curls under his chin. "And I have faith in you."

Sean turned in his arms and kissed him gently, then led him back into the room to start cleaning up.

* * *

**Saturday, October 13**

 

Mulder woke up to the feel of warm lips nuzzling the back of his neck. "Morning," he murmured, stretching lazily. He felt good and well rested after a full night's sleep, the first undisturbed night he could remember in over a week. And it had been a night of _only_ sleeping. Despite their libidos, both of them had been too tired to do more than cuddle and exchange a few kisses before falling asleep. Now Mulder had a feeling that his lover and Dom intended to make up for lost time.

"Morning, birthday boy. What would you like to do today?"

Mulder smiled sleepily and pressed back against the warm body stretched out along his. "This is nice."

Skinner chuckled and kissed his neck again. "Yes, it is. But I thought you might like something special as a treat."

"Like what?"

"Your choice. You have some kind of fantasy you'd like to play out here? Something we've done here that you'd like to do again?"

Mulder hesitated and then demurred, but Skinner felt his lover's body tense slightly. He pulled back, turning Mulder onto his back so he could see his face. "What is it?"

Mulder looked up at him in an embarrassed way that Skinner found endearing and then looked away, flushing. "I – um – "

"Fox, you can tell me _anything_. Surely you know that by now."

Mulder nodded and licked his lips. "I really like it when you put me in subspace." Skinner looked at him questioningly and jerked his head towards the x-frame on the wall. Mulder shook his head. "No, it’s not like that. I mean, if you want to do that you can, of course, but I don't _need_ the pain today."

"Then what do you need?"

Mulder tried to put his feelings into words. "I need you to put me really deep into subspace, so deep that I stop thinking and just _feel_."

Skinner nodded, fingers stroking Mulder's face gently. "I think I understand. You want heavy submission, but not heavy pain or humiliation."

"Beyond your usual habit of embarrassing me and calling me 'Kitten', you mean?" Mulder asked with a grin. "Ouch!" he laughed as Skinner pinched him.

"Brat. So is that what you had in mind?"

Mulder nodded, his face anxious. "Is that okay?"

"Babe, that’s no problem." He kissed Mulder briefly. "You go do your workout in the gym, and when you get back, I'll be ready for you."

Mulder got out of bed, rummaging in a drawer for the swimsuit and sweats that he kept at the Club. "Walter, you borrow my sweats for some reason? They're missing."

"No – they wouldn't fit me. Laundry probably still has them."

Mulder sighed and pulled on a pair of running shorts over his Speedos, then added a T-shirt from his pile of birthday gifts. "I don't know if it's smart for me to go out alone – Mason's probably lying in wait to give me that birthday spanking."

"Well, that shirt you're wearing will certainly give him ideas."

Mulder grinned, glancing down at the picture of a trout fly on his shirt – and the bold writing beside it. "It's from Sean. He thought it was highly appropriate."

Skinner laughed. "Works for me."

Mulder looked over at the other man, lying naked on the bed, one hand idly stroking his skin. "Oh, yeah?" His eyes smoldering, he stalked towards the bed. "Whip me." He crawled up on the bed. "Strip me." He straddled Skinner's body. "Tie me." He leaned over to brush his lips over Skinner's. "Fly me."

Skinner's arms wrapped around him and he deepened the kiss. "All that and more," he said huskily. "When you return."

Mulder pressed a last kiss on Skinner's lips. "And I thought fly-fishing was a boring sport. It's obviously gets _your_ blood pumping."

Skinner smacked Mulder's ass lightly. "Get moving, brat."

"Tyrant." He crawled off Skinner and sat on the side of the bed to pull on his sneakers. "Back in a bit."

"I'll be waiting. Oh – and Kitten?" Mulder paused in the doorway, looking back at him questioningly. "I wouldn't worry about Geoff giving you that birthday spanking. Worry about _me_."

Skinner couldn't help laughing at the look on Mulder's face as the door closed between them, a look somewhere between arousal and worry. It looked like it was going to be an interesting day.

* * *

Mulder opened the door to the suite cautiously and looked around. There was no sign of his Dom anywhere but it was evident that he had been hard at work. The heavy curtains had been pulled across the windows to block out the mid-morning sun. In the darkened room, he saw that the x-frame had been prepared, the bench pulled out, and an assortment of toys has been laid out on the table. The covers had been stripped off the bed and set to the side, and a variety of restraints lay across the end of the bed. Lube and another assortment of toys were set on the nightstand.

He wandered over to the table and looked over the assortment of plugs and dildos, his ass clenching in anticipation. Skinner had laid out floggers as well, the soft ones that Mulder loved to feel caressing his skin. The shiny black of their paddle caught his eyes and he traced their carved names on it with a half-smile. Then his eyes fell on the thing next to the paddle and he stopped breathing.

With shaky hands, he picked up the hood and traced his fingers over the reinforced areas covering the eyes and ears, intended to muffle all sound and sight. Cutting him off from the world.

He felt warm hands on his shoulders and almost jumped. He had been so intent on the hood in his hands that he hadn't heard Skinner come into the room. In a near panic, he looked back at the older man.

"Walter - I - I can't!"

"Yes, you can," Skinner said quietly. "And you will if I ask you to."

Brown eyes locked on hazel, compelling him. He felt the warmth in the hands still resting on his shoulders and saw the love in the eyes holding his. All of the tension abruptly drained away and he let out a sigh, and then smiled tremulously at Skinner.

"Yes," he said. "I will."

"Good boy." Skinner took the hood away from him and set it back on the table. "Are you ready, Fox?" Mulder nodded, speechless, and Skinner picked up a slender length of chain and a lock. He looped the chain around Mulder's neck saying, "For the next twenty-four hours, until I remove this chain, you belong to me. Not as my sub but as my slave. I expect your obedient surrender and your complete submission to my will. Your only thoughts will be of pleasing me and, if you do, you will be generously rewarded. Do you understand?"

Mulder could feel his whole body responding to Skinner's words. "Yes, Sir," he breathed.

Skinner fastened the lock. "Good. Now I want you to go into the bathroom. Shave, clean yourself inside and out, and lube. While you do this, I want you to be aware of only two things: the feel of my chain around your neck and the fact that you are preparing yourself for my use. Be ready for me, hot and willing and wanton, and I will take you hard and fast as a reward. But don't come until I give you permission or you will be punished."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder murmured, dazed. He couldn't ever remember feeling this hot from just hearing Skinner talk. He found himself in the bathroom, standing naked in the shower, without being aware of just how he had gotten there. He shuddered and reached for the shaving cream and razor, experience lending speed to the process of making himself smooth. And yet there was an added current of excitement underlying his actions. As his hands rinsed off the foam, he was intensely aware that soon the Dom's hands would be tracing the same path. His lips would be caressing and tasting this smooth flesh. His fingers seemed hypersensitive, searching for any hint of roughness, any trace of hair, making certain that he was ready for Skinner.

Sliding the shower attachment into his body, he groaned at the sensation of fullness. He had never minded enemas, viewing them as a necessary part of the intimate activity that he so thoroughly enjoyed. But he had never before thought about the full purpose of this preparation. Soon Skinner's mouth would be tasting him here, his tongue pressing inside. His fingers would probe him, teasing and stretching, demanding his surrender. And then finally, the thick cock that Mulder adored would slide into him, claiming and possessing him, filling him completely. Hot and hard, Skinner had said, and Mulder's mind supplied the image of himself bent over some handy piece of furniture while Skinner thoroughly reamed him. His own cock responded to the image as well, and he had to grasp the base of it tightly to prevent himself from coming. It wouldn't do to disobey the Dom this early - Mulder had learned from experience that Skinner's punishments were generally a cessation of activity, and he thought that he would probably die of frustration if he didn't get fucked soon.

Mulder stepped out of the shower to empty his body and then stepped back under the water to finish washing. Once again, his fingers mapped his body as he soaped his skin and then rinsed off, ensuring that every inch of him was clean and ready for his Dom's attention. He dried carefully and then lightly applied oil over his body to make his skin smooth and supple. Now the final preparation. He bent over the sink and spread his legs, his practiced fingers finding his hole and pressing lubricant inside, carefully preparing for Skinner to take him, his legs already trembling with need and excitement.

Finally ready, he left the bathroom and entered the main room of the suite. He found the room in darkness, illuminated by small pools of light from a few recessed light fixtures. Skinner was sitting in one of the pools of light on the couch, glasses on, reading something that had his full attention. Mulder drank in the picture, loving all the images and facets of the complex man that he had lost his heart to, had given his body and soul to. The Dom facet was tucked away at the moment, submerged inside the serious side of the man. So many aspects to his lover, requiring a lifetime of study to know him completely, and Mulder found himself looking forward to that.

He moved forward now, dropping to his knees before the master, assuming the waiting position with a grace that had become second nature. Skinner looked up, putting away the book and glasses, changing before his eyes into master mode. Mulder felt a shiver go up his spine.

Skinner reached out to grasp his chin. "Cold, my slave?"

"No, Sir," Mulder said truthfully. "Horny."

A smile touched Skinner's lips and he ran a hand down Mulder's chest. "And what has made you so horny, pet?"

"Thinking about you, Sir. Touching me, tasting me, fucking me."

"Good." Skinner leaned over to kiss him briefly, his hands continuing to explore. "I don't want you to think of anything else this weekend but me and my pleasure."

"Yes, Sir," Mulder gasped as Skinner's hand found his cock. He controlled his blind urge to thrust into that hand, frantically trying to figure out how to make this better for Skinner. Knowing that the other man liked to watch him, he arched his back slightly, pressing his chest upward in wanton invitation. His hips thrust slowly, rocking within the hand holding and fondling him. Skinner's other hand came out to toy with his nipples, teasing them, and he breathed out groans and sighs of delight.

"That's my pretty pet," Skinner murmured, and he pulled Mulder closer. His mouth plundered Mulder's, claiming him, and Mulder thought that he might come from the sheer pleasure of being kissed like this. He moaned his pleasure and felt for the rock hardness of the other man's cock inside his pants.

Skinner broke the kiss with a possessive growl. "Such a sweet slut," he said, pressing his body upwards against Mulder's hand. "You want this, don't you? You want to feel it up your ass, fucking you into next week."

"Yes," Mulder panted. "Oh, God, yes!"

"Then show me how much you want it."

Mulder didn't wait for a second invitation. In an instant, he had slid to the floor between Skinner's knees while his hands opened Skinner's pants and pulled the heavy cock through the opening. His mouth engulfed the thick shaft, his nose resting against warm cotton that held the intoxicating scent of his aroused lover. He loved this, loved taking this cock into his mouth at any time and any place. One of his favorite fantasies involved Skinner suddenly ordering Mulder to his knees in the middle of a staff meeting, calmly continuing to talk to the other agents while Mulder swallowed him whole. The feel of the clothed body under his pleasuring mouth was somehow more erotic than naked skin, perhaps because it fueled those forbidden fantasies.

All too soon it seemed, Skinner gripped him by the back of the hair, pulling him off his cock. "Up, boy."

Mulder reluctantly released the cock he had been savoring and got to his feet. "How do you want me, Sir?" he asked hopefully.

"I want you every way I can," Skinner growled. "And I intend to have you several times this weekend. But for now I want you to bend over the equipment table."

Mulder quickly moved into place over the table, not even pausing to push the toys aside. The scent of leather from the implements under his head seemed to fill his senses, making him even hotter. Then, remembering Skinner's earlier instructions, he reached back and grasped his cheeks, pulling them apart and offering himself willingly. He heard the lustful groan behind him and grinned, then gasped as he felt Skinner's cock slide into him in one smooth glide. The feel of cloth against his naked ass made him groan again. He loved it when Skinner fucked him like this, the Dom fully clothed while Mulder was naked before him. Then he laughed - hell, he liked it when Skinner fucked him any way. And who would have thought a year ago that Fox Mulder would find he loved taking a cock up the ass or in his mouth? And that it would be his boss whose body would fulfill his needs?

He felt Skinner's clothed body rest briefly along his back, heard Skinner breathe in his ear, "What's so funny, Kitten?"

"Me," Mulder murmured, then wiggled his hips suggestively to entice Skinner to continue.

Skinner accepted this answer for the moment and nipped Mulder's shoulder before straightening back up. He grasped Mulder's hips and began pistoning into him, intending to make this a quick session before getting into more intense mind games. He heard Mulder panting beneath him, heard the gasping pleas, and felt the tension in Mulder's body. His own climax was close and he thrust twice more, feeling the tightening of his balls. Leaning back over Mulder, he bit his neck again and heard Mulder's cry, felt the shaking convulsions of the channel surrounding his cock. His own climax triggered, he shouted his release and pumped himself into Mulder's body.

He collapsed on Mulder's back, breathless and momentarily sated. Then he roused himself enough to turn his head and murmur into Mulder's ear, "That's only the first time, my pet. By the time I finish with you, you will be limp with exhaustion and unable to sit comfortably for a week."

Mulder groaned. "Yes, Sir." At the moment, basking in the afterglow, he could care less but he had a feeling that before this day was over, he would wish Skinner hadn't said that.

* * *

Mulder lay on the floor, curled up around a pair of boots, his mind drifting idly, content with himself and the world in general. A world that, at present, had narrowed down to this room and the man at whose feet he lay. His stomach was pleasantly full from the dinner that his Dom had fed him earlier, his body relaxed from the bondage session Skinner had put him through that afternoon, and his thoughts were centered on the Dom. The unaccustomed weight of the chain around his neck instead of his collar made him more aware of his naked body and yet, at the same time, made him feel grounded inside his skin. It was a pleasant feeling, his whole body relaxed and at peace with the world.

Well, almost his whole body. His mouth quirked up in a smile as he contemplated his cock lying semi-hard in its leather sheath. It seemed to enjoy this game of erotic domination since the damn thing seemed to be in a constant state of arousal. And even that part of his body was content at the moment to lie in half-slumber, awaiting his master's pleasure.

He felt a tingle run up his spine at that thought and slowly rolled the words over in his mind again. His master's pleasure. No other need or desire beyond serving the man whose boots he was idly caressing and nuzzling, no other thoughts beyond living in this moment. He couldn't remember ever being this relaxed and at peace, content to just exist although one small part of his brain that was still on-line cynically murmured that it couldn't last. He frowned and pushed away that thought - time enough for the real world tomorrow. For right now, all he cared about was the soft leather under his cheek and the gentle hand now stroking his head.

He turned his face to nuzzle the boots again and heard a soft laugh. "What a little slut you are," Skinner said affectionately, pushing back his plate and tugging at Mulder's hair. "Come up here, boy." Mulder eagerly crawled up into the Dom's lap, nuzzling affectionately at the skin above the open collar, craving the feel of Skinner's hands on his body. "And it seems that you are still hungry."

"For you, Sir, always."

"Good, because I happen to be a little hungry myself. And I think that I will have some dessert." Skinner kissed Mulder, hard and possessively, and he willingly surrendered to the demands of the Dom's mouth. He forgot to think, forgot to breathe, forgot to do anything but feel.

Skinner released him and said, quietly, "On the floor by the frame. Now."

Mulder scrambled off Skinner's lap, getting into place on his knees in front of the x-frame, waiting for the Dom's next instructions. Skinner walked around him studying him intently for a moment. "All right, Kitten. I want you to go to the table and bring me three items to use on you - two that you like and one that you don't like."

Mulder hurried to obey, quickly choosing the suede flogger and the light paddle, two of his favorite implements. Then he looked over the rest of the items, frowning in thought. The crop - he hated the way that stung on his skin and was surprised that Skinner had put it out - usually it was reserved for his "pain" sessions, although even then Skinner used it sparingly. Or that large dildo - Skinner had an evil way of filling the hollow center with first hot water and then cold. The nipple clamps with the weighted ends were uncomfortable but not really that bad…

"Sometime this century, boy," Skinner growled. "I dislike being made to wait."

All his blood seemed to surge to his cock at that tone and, with an effort, Mulder focused back on the items on the table. After a long moment, he reluctantly picked up the hood. He hurried back to his place and set the three items on the floor in front of him, then held up the first item, the flogger, for approval. Skinner took it, trailing the suede ends over his body, and Mulder couldn't stop the delicious shiver that ran through his body.

"Why did you choose this one, my pet?"

Mulder closed his eyes, leaning into the sensation. "I love the way it feels on my skin, Sir. Even when you strike me hard, it's like a caress and I feel like I could come just from that."

Skinner chuckled. "You are a sensualist and a wanton slut, my pet." He set it aside, accepting the paddle that Mulder now held up for him. "And this, my boy? Why did you choose this?" He ran the cloth side of the paddle over Mulder's shoulders.

"Because it's ours," Mulder said simply, then he grinned. "And because good boys like to get spanked, too."

Skinner laughed at that and put the paddle next to the flogger. The smile faded when he saw the next item that Mulder held up to him - the hood. "Fox?" He asked quietly. "Why did you choose this?"

Mulder drew a deep breath. "You said to pick something I hate. I hate that thing - the look of it, the idea of it, everything about it - but I told you that I'd wear it if you want me to. I trust you."

Skinner crouched down on the floor and lifted Mulder's chin so he could look him in the eyes. "Fox," he murmured softly. "I said to choose something you didn't like, not something that terrifies you. I want to push your limits, but I won't ever do _anything_ to hurt you. This is supposed to be enjoyable, not torture, and I won't abuse your trust."

Mulder swallowed hard. "I – I know. Thank you, Walter."

Skinner got up, putting the hood away in the cabinet. "We'll save this for another time, when you're ready." He smiled back at Mulder. "And I think that we've got enough other toys to keep us amused." Mulder rolled his eyes at that and Skinner said with mock severity, "Enough of that, boy. I can see that I need to take you down a peg or two. Get in position over the bench."

Mulder quickly settled into place over the padded bench that Skinner had recently added to his suite. The bench had been custom made to fit Mulder's body, allowing his knees and chest to rest on padded sections while his backside and genitals were available for the Dom to do as he pleased. Adjustable cuffs allowed Skinner to secure his sub however he wanted and, after checking that Mulder was comfortable, Skinner spread the other man's legs as wide as possible, securing the cuffs around his knees and ankles. He could feel a slight tremor in Mulder's body and knew that the interlude with the hood had abruptly thrown Mulder out of sub-space, making him feel awkward and vulnerable. After fastening the wrist cuffs and making sure that Mulder's genitals were safely tucked out of harm's way, he took a few minutes to run his hands over Mulder's body. Gently stroking his back in circles, he concentrated on soothing and settling the sub down, and felt the moment when Mulder began to relax again.

Now it was time to get Mulder's mind on other things. Knowing how fond Mulder was of anal play, Skinner lubricated a plug and slowly inserted it into Mulder. The sub was still loose from their earlier sessions and it slid in easily. Mulder groaned, his head dropping forward as he completely surrendered to the Dom once again. Skinner pulled it out and pushing it back in several times, smiling as he listened to Mulder's whimpers of pleasure.

"Like that, pet?"

"Yes," Mulder groaned. "More…"

"Oh, I'll give you more, boy, but you have to earn it." He moved around to stand by Mulder's head and, as Mulder automatically opened his mouth, laughed. "What a slut you are, my Kitten. You don't care if I fuck your mouth or your ass, just as long as you get either or both filled. Am I right, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," Mulder admitted, flushing in a combination of lust and embarrassment. "Want you…"

"And you shall have me." Skinner opened his fly and freed his hardening member. Mulder readily opened his mouth, pulling the thickening cock in, and Skinner groaned. "That's my good Kitten. Show me how much you want this, my sweet little slut."

A year ago, Mulder would have been embarrassed by the fierce need and lust that swept through him at Skinner's order. And a year ago, Mulder would have found himself severely handicapped by being unable to use his hands, but he had learned a lot during that year. He knew just how to lick and suck the large cock that was slowly fucking his mouth, knew just where to exert a little more suction and when to swirl his tongue over the head and along the slit. He had even learned how to read Skinner's reactions, not only from his breathing and the low noises he made, but also from the tension in the hand that stroked over his skin.

A sudden tension in the fingertips pressing against his back warned him that the Dom was nearing the point of no return. Mulder eagerly slid his mouth forward, relaxing his throat, and sucked hard. Skinner gasped and bucked suddenly but Mulder was ready for him and held on, determinedly milking the shaft and swallowing greedily until Skinner finally roused himself enough to extricate his softening cock.

"Enough, boy," he growled.

Mulder couldn't help a smug smile at the shaky note in Skinner's voice and the Dom noticed. He caressed Mulder's hair once, affectionately, and then decided it was time to push Mulder deeper into his submission.

"Pretty damned pleased with yourself, aren't you, boy? Proud of how good you are at sucking cock? Think that all you have to do is open that pretty mouth of yours and you can control me?" He lifted Mulder's head up by the hair, not hard enough to hurt him, just enough to startle him. "Do you think to own _me_ , boy?"

Mulder flushed as his eyes widened. "No, Sir."

Skinner released Mulder's head and moved around the bench to smack Mulder's ass. "Don't lie to me, Kitten. Do you think I don't know your fantasies? You picture going down on me in front of others, showing off your skill, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," Mulder murmured, letting his head drop forward.

Skinner caressed the skin he had just smacked, hearing Mulder's muffled moan. "I like that idea, too, pet. But if I take your mouth or your ass or any other part of you, here or in public, it will be for _my_ pleasure and because you belong to me, not because you like to show off, boy." Skinner's hand continued to caress Mulder's bare flesh. "You are mine to use as I please."

"Oh God, Sir, please use me," Mulder moaned, trying to press upwards against the hand now stroking between his cheeks, twisting his head to try to see what Skinner was doing to him.

"I will, my slave," Skinner said. "When _I_ am ready. Right now, I think I'll play for awhile."

Mulder groaned at that, letting his head drop forward again. He knew that tone of voice and knew it was useless to argue or plead at this point, but also that Skinner would make the wait worthwhile.

Skinner picked up the flogger and trailed it over the naked flesh displayed before him, watching closely for Mulder's reactions. The sub shivered under the tickling feeling, moaning slightly but holding as still as possible. Skinner smiled to himself – that wouldn't last long. He flicked the flogger slightly, letting the trailing suede strips fall lightly over Mulder's back, repeating his actions along more sensitive skin. Intensifying the strokes, he moved in a steady pattern over the back and ass, down the lean legs all the way to the feet. He ran the strips lightly over the sensitive instep and, as he heard a gasped profanity behind him, smiled. Mulder was notoriously ticklish on his feet and, under other circumstances, he might have taken advantage of that. But today he wanted the man writhing with want and need, not with laughter, so he moved back up the fine body as he increased the intensity of the blows he delivered.

By the time he reached full strength, Mulder was no longer holding still. He was wriggling as much as he could within his bonds, a litany of pleas and curses pouring out of his mouth. Skinner ran an experienced hand along the lightly pinkened skin, judging the degree of warmth in the skin and the level of need in the man. When he reached Mulder's face, he was surprised when Mulder turned his head and eagerly sucked his fingers into his mouth. Amused, he allowed Mulder to suck on him for a few minutes before extracting his fingers, chuckling at Mulder's whimper.

"You need something, my pet?"

"You," Mulder gasped, trying to press forward to touch any part of the Dom's body. "Please – need you – "

Skinner ran a hand back down Mulder's body. "Not yet. You're not ready for me."

"God – any more ready – and I'll die," Mulder panted, trying to press up against the hand that was moving too lightly for his needs.

Skinner chuckled again. "Oh, you won't die, Kitten." He picked up the paddle and ran the cloth side over Mulder's back. "But I think that this ass needs a little more color before I take it. Plus there's the little matter of a birthday spanking."

"Oh God!" Mulder moaned then, as the first flurry of smacks fell on his backside, his litany changed. "Ohgodohgodohgod!" He thrashed in his bonds, torn between his equal need to move closer and to get away. Skinner placed a hand in the middle of his back, holding him still while at the same time anchoring him. Mulder gave up his thrashing with a sound that was half-sob, half-plea, then went back to begging for more, more, more. Skinner could feel the tension rising in his sub's body and knew that Mulder wouldn't last much longer. He tossed the paddle aside and quickly pulled the plug out of Mulder's body, sliding his cock home before the sub could protest the loss.

"Yes! Oh, God, yes!" Mulder shouted, bucking back as much as he could. "Please – oh please!"

Skinner pressed him body down on Mulder's, forcing him to stillness, then leaned forward to nip at his earlobe and murmur in his ear, "Who do you belong to, Kitten?"

"You, Sir!"

"And what are you?"

"Your slut – your slave – your whore – whatever you want!" Mulder panted. "Just please, please, fuck me!"

"Yes," Skinner growled and released Mulder's cock from the leather cage. Mulder nearly wept with relief as his erection was freed from confinement, then howled as Skinner pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in. Hard and fast, Skinner was taking him completely and thoroughly, and Mulder loved it. He couldn't get enough of this fucking, of this man, and he nearly wept as he felt his climax rise through him. Too soon! he wanted to scream, trying to hold onto the moment of ecstasy. And then Skinner was shouting, slamming into him one more time, and Mulder surrendered to the explosion that ripped through him and plunged him into darkness.

* * *

Mulder woke mid-morning on Sunday and lay still for a long moment, listening to the soft breathing of the man beside him. He had a vague recollection of having awakened long enough to be tenderly sponged down before being tucked into bed, so deep into his submission that he had been content to let Skinner tend to him. And now he was aware of a delicious ache in at least a half-dozen places but that wasn't what had awakened him.

No, it was a sudden moment of clarity that had done that. A moment in which he had known exactly what he wanted and how to go about getting it. And it was why he was lying here now, grinning at the ceiling like an idiot, one hand playing with his new earring.

After more than a month of debating and thinking, it seemed that giving his brain a day off had given him the answer he needed. Or maybe it had just given his heart a chance to talk, whispering the truth to him now that he had taken the time to listen. He was ready to make that leap, to take the risk. Now.

He rolled over on his side and shook Skinner's shoulder. "Walter, wake up."

Skinner blinked his eyes open, awakened by the urgency in Mulder's voice. "Fox, what's wrong? Are you in pain?"

Mulder grinned. "A little, but it's a good pain." He gave Skinner a brief, hard kiss and then slid out of bed. "Come on - get dressed."

Skinner sat up in bed, puzzled, watching his lover move briskly around the room as he pulled their bags out of the closet and began packing. "Mulder, do you mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

"I need to show you something," Mulder said absently, tucking his gifts into his bag. He walked into the bathroom to get his kit and, catching sight of himself in the mirror, suddenly remembered the chain around his neck. "Shit!" he muttered, dropping his kit and hurrying into the main room. He hurriedly dropped to his knees beside the bed, glancing up briefly at Skinner who was still sitting up in bed, watching him with amusement.

"Sorry, Sir," he said quickly. "I - forgot."

Skinner chuckled and reached out to pull him up and into bed, kissing him thoroughly. "It's all right, Fox. I know how you get sometimes." He picked up the key from the nightstand, unlocking the chain and setting it aside. "Now, what is it that you have to show me?"

"I can't tell you - I have to show you." Mulder slid out of bed again, tugging at Skinner. "Come _on_ , Walter."

Skinner allowed himself to be tugged out of bed, laughingly protesting, "Fox, at least let me get a shower!"

"All right - but make it a fast one." He turned back towards the room, intent on his packing, but Skinner grabbed his wrist and tugged him into the bathroom with him. "Walter! We don't have _time_ for this!" Skinner pulled him into the shower and into his arms for another thorough kiss, and Mulder melted against him. "Well, I guess it can wait a _little_ while longer…"

* * *

Mulder insisted on taking his car when they left the Club, and Skinner agreed, wondering just what he was up to. As Mulder left Dupont Circle heading towards Alexandria, he studied the younger man. Mulder was anxious about something, tension fairly humming through his body. After the past day, Skinner didn't know where Mulder got the energy from - Heaven knew that he was wiped. But he had a feeling that if he said anything, he would spook the younger man, so he just sat back quietly and waited. Mulder appeared to be heading towards his apartment so Skinner assumed that there was something back at his place that he wanted Skinner to see.

To his surprise, Mulder didn't turn off on the street leading towards his apartment, continuing south towards Old Town. Just before they reached the business area of the town, Mulder surprised him again by turning into a side-street, winding through a couple of other narrow streets before pulling up in front of a row of narrow townhouses and stopping the car. Surprised, Skinner watched Mulder get out of the car, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.

"Coming?" Mulder asked.

Skinner opened his car door and glanced up at the building in front of him. It appeared to be an older building, the central section white brick and the ends in contrasting red brick, with a short flight of stairs leading up to the doors in the central section. He wondered what on earth Mulder was up to as he followed the younger man up the stairs and through one of the doors.

Mulder was already talking when he caught up with him. " - about a hundred years old, brick and wood. Two main floors plus an attic and the two center units have a daylight basement. This floor has a living room, kitchen, and dining room plus a half bath. The second floor has two bedrooms – small, but they could be combined into a master suite – plus a full bath. The other three units are the same, although the two end units are half a floor lower since they don't have the basement. And there's an alleyway that runs along the back with covered parking."

Skinner looked at him, mystified. "Okay, Mulder. I like the guided tour, but do you mind telling me what this is all about?"

Mulder drew in a deep breath. "I've had a real estate agency looking around for some properties, and Scully went with me to weed out the ones that were unsuitable. I signed a contract on this one - it's a really good deal – the whole building is for sale, not just one unit. And the appraiser's been over it and the building is structurally sound, although you can see it needs cosmetic work. Old fixtures in the bathrooms and kitchens, but the plumbing and wiring are new. It may look a little small, but the attic rooms can be turned into guest bedrooms or an office or something, and I was thinking that the two central units could even be combined, leaving the outer two as rental properties. And something like this is almost impossible to come by – "

Skinner put a hand over Mulder's mouth to silence him. "Fox, are you trying to tell me that you're thinking about buying this place?"

Mulder nodded. "Yeah, but if you don't like this one, there's a renovated brownstone in Georgetown, and a larger house in Falls Church but I wasn't sure if either of us would have the time to do the yard work on that one. I didn't see anything in Crystal City but I can keep looking if you're partial to that area, and I've got a lead on a place in Shirlington – "

Skinner silenced him again, this time wrapping his other arm around Mulder's waist and pulling him close. "You mean you've been house hunting – for us?" he asked softly. Mulder nodded again, his eyes anxious as they met Skinner's. "And you've got a contract on this one?"

"Yes, but if you hate the place, don't worry about it. I'll have my property management company rent it out – "

"Property management – Mulder, are you in the habit of buying property? Don't tell me – you own your apartment building."

Mulder grinned. "You think I'd still be living there after all the shootings and dead bodies if they could get rid of me?"

Skinner shook his head in disbelief. "How many properties do you own?"

"Counting my father's place on the Vineyard, his condo in town, and the summer house?" At Skinner's surprised look, he laughed. "And my mom owns a couple places herself. It's a family obsession."

"So I see." He looked around the room they were standing in, appraising it with new eyes. The paint was peeling, the floor needed to be sanded and refinished, and he could feel a gust of wind which meant that the windows probably needed to be caulked or replaced. But there was a charm about the place and, oddly enough, he felt at home.

"Walter?" Mulder's voice was flat, diffident, as if none of this mattered to him personally, but Skinner knew better. The tension in Mulder's body was so high that Skinner thought he would shake apart if touched. And, considering how skittish Mulder had originally been about the whole idea of living together, Skinner was amazed at how much effort he had put into finding the right place.

He cleared his throat and said, gruffly, "I'd like to see the appraiser's report. I've got an old Marine buddy who's a contractor – not in this part of the country, but he can give us an idea of the kind of work we'll need done, as well as the names of some reputable contractors." Skinner walked over and tapped on one of the central walls. "And we'll need to check on these before we even think about combining these units, make sure we're not jeopardizing load-bearing walls."

The smile on Mulder's face was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and Skinner couldn't help smiling back. "So you like it?" Mulder asked, allowing his anxiety to show.

"I like it a lot," Skinner said, and then reached out to wrap a hand around the back of Mulder's neck, pulling him close enough to kiss. "And I love you."

"I know," Mulder said softly, wrapping his arms around Skinner's waist and burying his face against his shoulder. His doubts and fears dissolved under the warmth of the love wrapping around him and he thought he just might like the idea of growing old alongside one person, as long as it was the man holding him right now. And that he might even survive long enough to make that dream come true.

 

 


	45. Triangles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are triangles and then there are Triangles… (And how many triangles can you find)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "Light in Your Eyes" by Blessed Union of Souls. 
> 
> Episode: Triangles, or my take on it

_Darling, tonight I could hold you and you would know_   
_But would you believe?_   
_There's a light in your eyes that I used to see_   
_There's a place in your heart where I used to be_   
_Was I wrong to assume that you were waiting for me_   
_There's a light in your eyes_   
_Did you leave that light burning for me?_

 

Mulder could hear the angry footsteps coming all the way from the elevator and he mentally ducked and covered. A moment later, the door swung open and Agent Fowley stormed in. Mulder decided that asking her how the case had gone would only get him into trouble with his health insurance providers and instead waited for her to speak first. He didn’t have to wait long.

“You knew it was a hoax!” Fowley exploded, flinging the casefile down on his desk. “You knew it all along and you sent me out there anyway! Do you know what a _fool_ I looked like? Do you have any idea how those people _laughed_ at me behind my back while I spent almost two weeks going about testing that – that brat! And my partner – you should have seen the smug look on his face when I found out those people were faking it for _publicity_!”

“Spender always looks like that,” Mulder pointed out. The look that Fowley gave him indicated that his death might be imminent. He sighed and tried a different approach saying, sympathetically, “Diana, I know how you feel. Believe me – I’ve been there too many times to count. And I’ll admit that I thought that there was a _possibility_ that this was a fraud, but there was also a possibility that this was legitimate.” Yeah – the same possibility as Cancerman joining the anti-tobacco lobbyists, he thought. “As long as there’s a _chance_ of that, we have a responsibility to check it out. And remember, finding the frauds and phonies who are playing on people’s weaknesses is part of our job, too. So if you’ve put another bogus operation out of business, then I say congratulations – good work.”

Fowley had mellowed considerably during his little speech and by the end she was almost smiling. “Well, they _were_ wanted in two other states for fraud, so I guess you’re right.” She settled a hip on his desk and smiled at him. “So I’ll just finish up the report and let you take a look at it, then run it up to Kersh.”

“Sounds good,” Mulder said, standing up with his own folder in his hands. “I’m on my way up there myself with a case report.”

“How did it go?”

Mulder sighed. “Not good. It turned out that there were _two_ demons involved - not just the male but also a female. The male demon died although fortunately his wife - his human wife - survived. The female demon got away from us – apparently with an infant demon. The forensics people spent the past two weeks exhuming her back yard for infant remains.”

Fowley’s face sobered and for a moment, Mulder felt grateful that there was at least _one_ person who could accept that demons might exist. “Oh, Fox, how horrible for you. I wish I could have been there to help you – I don’t imagine that Agent Scully was too open to the idea.”

Mulder shrugged. “Scully’s my voice of reason – keeps me from going out too far on that limb. Most of the time, anyway.”

“But still,” Fowley persisted. “If you had someone with you who supports your viewpoint, someone you didn’t have to _convince_ , it would save you a lot of time. You might have been able to catch that woman.”

“Scully’s a good partner,” Mulder said defensively.

“So’s Jeffrey,” Fowley said, then gave him a half-grin. “But isn’t it nice to talk to someone every once in a while who doesn’t roll their eyes when you mention something supernatural?”

Mulder had to return her smile. “Yeah. Scully’s got that eye-rolling thing down to an art form.”

Fowley laughed softly and leaned forward, lightly touching Mulder’s earring. “This is new. I like it.”

Mulder flushed slightly. “Um – got it two weeks ago. An anniversary and birthday present.”

He thought for a moment that he saw Fowley’s mouth tighten at that but she said, lightly, “I wouldn’t have thought of you as the type to wear an earring, but it looks good. Isn’t there something like a code with men and earrings – which ear you wear it in means you’re taken or available or something?”

Mulder unobtrusively moved away from her, fervently hoping that she wouldn’t decide to do research on the matter. “I think that’s actually women and wearing flowers in their hair. This is just an earring, nothing more.”

“It’s an interesting design,” she said, following him. “Very masculine.”

He bit his tongue to keep from saying, _Just like the man who gave it to me_ , and smiled weakly. “Yeah, well, I like it, too.”

“This was a new piercing, right? Did they tell you how to take care of it? Turning it regularly and cleaning it with alcohol?”

Mulder backed away, trying not to be obvious. “Um – I think - “

“Better let me have a look at it, to make sure you’re not getting an infection.” Fowley had backed him into the filing cabinet and she laughed slightly at the tenseness of his body. “Relax, Fox – I’m just checking your ear.”

She grabbed his head firmly and turned it so that she could see his ear. Mulder fought the impulse to push her away and run for it, reasoning that his ear would suffer the consequences.

“Well, it looks good, but you’ve got to be sure that you turn it regularly while it’s healing to keep the hole open. And clean around it with alcohol wipes – that’s very important.”

“Um – I will – thanks – “

Fowley kept her hold on his head but let him turn his head back. “No trouble. Can’t have anything happening to you now, can we?” She smiled at him.

Mulder opened his mouth to answer as he put his hands on her shoulders, ready to gently push her away. A sudden noise made him glance over to see Skinner and Jeffrey Spender standing in the doorway. From the shocked expression on Spender’s face and the stony one on Skinner’s, it was obvious that they had formed the wrong impression about this scene. Spender made a disgusted sound and stormed off while Mulder flushed and pushed Fowley away, clearing his throat.

“Um, hello, sir,” Mulder said, trying not to appear flustered. “Is there – is there something I can do for you?”

Skinner’s face betrayed nothing. “Just came by to see if you had a report on that case I referred to you. I’d like to take a look at it before you pass it on to A.D. Kersh.”

“Certainly – I have it right here – “ He picked up the file from his desk and held it out, trying not to wince as Skinner practically jerked it out of his hands. “There are some – abnormalities to this case, things not being what they seemed to be. If – if you’d like, I could schedule some time to come by your office and discuss them with you.”

Skinner’s eyes were cool. “That won’t be necessary. Agents.” He turned on his heel and left abruptly.

Fowley leaned against the file cabinets, a smirk on her face. “Guess Stone-face Skinner doesn’t approve of ‘fraternization among agents’.”

Mulder turned to glare at Fowley. “This _wasn’t_ fraternization. There isn’t any fraternization between us and there isn’t going to be any. Whatever was between us in the past, it’s in the _past_. And it’s going to stay that way.”

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Fowley said, a wistful tone to her voice.

Mulder sighed and rubbed his face. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he didn't want to give her false hope. “No, it wasn’t that bad – but it’s over. I’ve moved on. You should, too. Agent Spender – “

“ – is a nice guy, but he’s no Fox Mulder.”

“For which the world is eternally grateful,” Scully said from the doorway. “Two Mulders would be more than we could handle.”

Mulder grinned at that but Fowley said, coolly, “I don’t know about that. I _like_ a challenge.” She picked up her file folder. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go upstairs and work on my report.” She brushed past Scully, forcing her to flatten herself against the door.

Scully glanced at the retreating agent, then turned and stared at her partner. Mulder was sitting at his desk, banging his head against the top of the desk.

“O – kay,” she said, closing the door and leaning against it, crossing her arms across her chest. “What on earth was that all about?”

Mulder kept his forehead on the desk. “Diana decided to check my earring. You know, to make sure it wasn’t getting infected.”

Scully realized that this was one of those times where she was going to have to drag everything out of her partner. “And?”

“And Spender walked in.”

“And?”

“Walter was with him.”

“And?”

“I think they got the wrong impression.”

Scully frowned slightly. “Why?”

Mulder sighed and sat up, rubbing his aching head. “I had my back to the file cabinet and Diana sort of had me pinned…” Scully couldn’t help chuckling at that and Mulder glared at her. “It’s not funny. You didn’t see the look that Walter gave me. Ice would have been warmer.”

Scully sat down on the corner of his desk and said soothingly, “Now Mulder, I’m sure that Walter doesn’t think that you’d have a fling with a fellow agent in your office in the middle of work day. Or at any other time, for that matter.”

Mulder looked at her hopefully. “You think so?”

“Just go over to his place tonight, take a bottle of wine with you, and grovel at his feet. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” She laughed at his glare and patted his arm. “Seriously, partner, I doubt that he’s even given it a second thought so just relax. We’ve got paperwork to do – that should take your mind off of _anything_.”

* * *

Skinner sat in his office, staring blankly at the file folder in front of him, but all that he could see was the image of his lover, locked in a clinch with Diana Fowley. Okay, _not_ locked in a clinch, but she definitely had him pinned against the file cabinet and was holding his head between her hands, minutes away from a kiss. And it didn’t look like he was struggling to get away.

He had always worried that this day would come. It wasn't that he doubted that Mulder loved him, not any more, but his lover had been straight up until a year ago. And Skinner had secretly wondered if Mulder might someday discover that he missed having sex with women. Now it seemed as if Mulder was remembering he had options other than his male lover. Which left him wondering just where the two of them stood.

The past two weeks had been especially good. Mulder’s revelation that he had bought a house for the two of them seemed to have broken down some of the remaining reservations that the younger man had, and he had spent almost every night since then in Skinner’s bed. Skinner had reveled in the almost-forgotten pleasure of waking up each morning wrapped around his lover’s body, showing his appreciation in a way that Mulder had laughingly complained would make him bow-legged for life. Mulder had also enthusiastically thrown himself into the process of selecting a contractor for the renovations to the house. Skinner had thought that all this meant that they were committing to each other, exclusively, but now he wondered what it meant to Mulder.

Skinner sighed. He would have to have a long talk with his lover, find out just where Mulder thought they were going and if it was a road that Skinner felt he could travel with him. And if it wasn't…

Skinner sat in his office, staring blankly at the file folder in front of him.

* * *

"I want her out of the picture. I don't care what you do - I just want her _out_."

The man Mulder called Cancerman leaned back in his chair, watching complacently as Diana Fowley paced angrily back and forth across the room. "I'm certain that you do, my dear. However, you should know by now that what you want is irrelevant."

She stopped and glared at him. "You brought me back here - asked me to seduce him - "

Cancerman frowned at that and stubbed out his cigarette. "I did not, in point of fact, ask you to seduce him."

"You asked me to bring him into line, under our control. How in the hell else did you expect me to do that?" she demanded.

"I wanted you to be his friend, his confidant. Someone he could turn to with these mysteries he insists on investigating. Someone he would talk with so we could find out just what is going on in his head." Cancerman lit another cigarette and drew deeply from it. "If you persist in these Mata Hari attempts, you'll end up pushing him away instead."

"I know Fox," Fowley insisted.

"Correction, you _knew_ Fox. This is not the same man that you led around by the nose back then. He's changed. He also appears to be very much in love with - someone else."

"Which is why I need you to get Dana Scully out of the way!" Fowley snapped.

Cancerman smirked. "I don't think that will do any good."

"What - you don't think I can make him forget her?" She turned and stalked over to him, leaning over the back of his chair. "You forget," she purred seductively. "I'm very, very good."

Cancerman's eyes gleamed. "You may be good, but you lack something essential."

Fowley frowned, not understanding his meaning, and sat on the edge of the desk. "Then you won't get rid of her?"

"Dana Scully is not to be harmed. I have - other plans for her." Cancerman smiled and Fowley shivered at the predatory look in his eyes. "I will have her moved away from Mulder’s sphere of influence, but it will take a little time to arrange. In the meantime, stop pursing Mulder and try to get in his confidence instead." Dryly, he said, "Content yourself with your other romantic conquest for the time being."

Fowley smirked at the tone of his voice. "What, you don't approve of me playing with Jeffrey? Jealous?"

Cancerman smiled in amusement and blew out a puff of smoke. "Hardly. I know that he's nothing more than a toy to you, a temporary amusement. He doesn't have a hope of supplying what you really need." He let his voice darken into something deadly and dangerous and watched Fowley shiver with a combination of fear and need. "Does he, my dear?"

In reply, Fowley stood up and walked to the door, locking it, then turned back around. "No - Master."

* * *

Jeffrey Spender sat in Casey's, both hands wrapped around a glass, nursing both the glass and a gut-wrenching bitterness.

_God damn Fox Mulder._

The image that he had walked in on burned his mind, burned his eyes.

_And God damn Diana Fowley, too._

He let out a bitter laugh, a laugh directed at himself. He should have known better. He should never have trusted her, should never have fallen for that soft look or the half-smile from behind that dark fall of silky hair. Should never have let her entice him into her bed on that lonely night out on the road, and all those nights that followed, should never have let her in…

He drained his glass and slammed it down on the bar. "Another."

As he wrapped his hands around a new glass, his mind vaguely registered another body sliding onto the bar stool next to him. He didn't care about that - not about anything except the Bitch and that bastard Mulder.

"Let me guess - woman troubles."

At least the voice was masculine - at the moment, Spender thought he would take out his gun and shoot any woman who tried to come on to him. He'd had enough of that for one lifetime, thank you very much.

He didn't realize that he had said that aloud until he heard the soft laugh. "Yeah. I had a run-in like that myself. Nearly cost me my life."

The voice was not only masculine, it was as smooth as silk, a voice that invited confidences. He turned his head sideways and found himself staring into green eyes. Large green eyes framed by the darkest lashes that he had ever seen on a man.

He turned his attention abruptly back to his drink, forced his mind away from that track. He had learned as a teen not to think along those lines, not to let his mind or body focus on his inexplicable attraction for the male body. Spender was already a skinny kid, a geek, with a mother that most of the guys labeled as one toy short of a Happy Meal. He hadn't needed the additional stigma of _faggot_ added to that collection.

"Look, Mister," he said roughly. "I'm not looking for conversation or a drinking buddy, so just leave me the fuck alone."

"I'm not looking for anything, either - just a drink and a place to sit while I drink it."

"Then why the comment?"

The man shrugged. "Just trying to be sociable. You looked like you could use a sympathetic ear."

Spender snorted at that. "Yeah, you could say that."

"So tell me about it." He drained a glass of what looked like vodka and signaled for a refill. "I'm just a sympathetic stranger sharing a drink in an anonymous bar. No pressure, no judgment, just a guy who's been there before.”

“Yeah, well, have you ever walked in on your lover in a clinch with another man?”

The dark-haired man nodded. “Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?”

Spender sighed. “Yeah. I mean, I knew that they were involved in the past but Diana said that it was over, that she had walked away from him when she realized he was nothing but trouble.” He made a sour face and drained the rest of his drink. “Guess that old Spooky was just too much for her to resist.”

He thought he felt his drinking companion’s body stiffen slightly on the stool beside him. “That’s an unusual name.”

“A nickname – and one well earned, believe me. Special Agent Fox William Mulder,” Spender intoned, raising his glass in a mock salute. “Former golden boy and profiler extraordinaire, now obsessed with hunting down little green men.” He snorted and knocked back half of the glass.

“Gray,” the other man said automatically, then seemed to catch himself and gave Spender a half-smile that nearly dazzled the man. “Great waste of time, right?”

“You’re telling me. I don’t know how he gets away with it, although I think our new boss has his number – Mulder’ll be out on his ass before long.” He drained his glass with satisfaction and signaled for another.

“So this Mulder’s made a play for your girl?”

Spender shrugged. “Or she made a play for him. Diana’s not one to sit back and wait on a man.” He took a couple more sips of his beer. “For all I know, I was just a substitute for what she really wanted – Mulder.”

His companion sighed. “Been there, my friend.”

“Yeah?” Spender turned and looked at the other man curiously, his words slurring slightly under the influence of the drinks he had imbibed. “A good-looking guy like you? I wouldn’t think you’d have problems getting what you want.”

“Yeah, well, you’d be wrong. Dead wrong.”

There was something in that voice that chilled him to the bone, made him suddenly aware of the dangers of getting involved with a stranger. But then the man turned and looked at him with a smile, his green eyes warm and friendly, and Spender thought that he must have imagined the cold voice. There was no way that anyone with eyes like that could be either cold or dangerous. He smiled back.

“Look,” the other man said, an apology in his voice. “I have to run – business meeting – but I don’t want to leave you here like this. I’ve got a cab coming – can I drop you somewhere?” As Spender hesitated, he said, with that disarming smile, “I promise that I won’t try to kill you or get into your pants. It’s just a shared cab ride.”

His sane, sensible voice inside his head told him to say “no”, but he was tired of listening to that voice. Besides, he was an FBI agent and could take care of himself.

He must have said that out loud again because the stranger smiled and said, teasingly, “Then come on, Tough guy. Cab’s here.”

Spender tossed down some bills to pay for his drinks and followed his new friend outside. His eyes were involuntarily drawn to the tight ass in front of him, watching with fascination the way the other man moved with an almost feline grace. When the man stopped abruptly, Spender looked up, startled, and saw that they were standing next to the taxi. And that he had been caught checking out this stranger's ass. He flushed but the other man just grinned.

"Get in and tell him where you want to go."

Spender crawled into the back of the cab, gave his address to the driver and then turned to see a strange, almost sad look on the other man's face. “What?” he asked, confused.

“Nothing,” the man said, shrugging. “It’s – you’re a nice kid. I was just trying to remember what it was like to be like that. If I ever was.”

Stung, Spender said, “I’m not a kid! And it’s Jeff.”

“Alex,” the man said, holding out a hand. “Alex Krycek.”

They shook hands and Spender noticed that Krycek held his hand a fraction longer than normal. He flushed slightly, then turned to look out the window, saying, “So, Alex, what do you do for a living?”

He was looking out the window and didn’t see the slight shadow cross the Krycek’s face. “I’m an – independent consultant for a large consortium with international interests.”

Spender turned back with a laugh. “That’s a big job title.”

“It’s a big job,” Krycek said shortly. “You're an FBI Agent?”

“Special Agent Jeffrey Spender – and I’ve even got a badge to prove it.”

“I’d like to see your – badge,” Krycek said, his voice low and sensual.

Spender swallowed hard, torn between equal part interest and apprehension. His body felt hot and flushed, his pants suddenly tight. “I think that can be arranged,” he managed to say, feeling like a tongue-tied teenager all over again.

Krycek laughed softly and patted his cheek, and Spender resisted an urge to turn his face into the man’s palm. “Another time, I think. Right now, you’ve had a little too much to drink. Not a good way to make a decision about – badges.”

“I’m not drunk!” Spender said indignantly.

“I didn’t say you were, Tough guy.” Krycek said, grinning, then glanced out the window as the cab slowed down. “This it?”

Spender nodded and Krycek got out, helping the younger man out of the cab. He pulled a card out of his pocket and tucked it into Spender’s coat pocket.

“My phone number – if you need someone to talk to.” He patted the pocket. “About badges and other things.”

Spender nodded, a little dazed, and stood watching as Krycek got back in the cab. “Wait!” he called out, fumbling in his pocket for his card case. “You don’t have my number!”

Krycek rolled down the window and gave him a wicked smile that made Spender’s temperature climb. “I know how to find you – Special Agent Jeffrey Spender.”

Spender stood on the sidewalk, intoxicated on more than alcohol, and watched the cab drive off. As he went into his apartment and fell into bed, still dressed, he wondered why he suddenly felt very, very happy.

* * *

Mulder unlocked the door to Skinner’s apartment and opened the door slightly, tossing his coat in through the opening. When the movement wasn’t met by gunfire, he pushed the door open and peered inside. His lover stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, pointedly staring at the coat at his feet. Mulder restrained a cowardly impulse to flee for his life and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“I can explain.”

Skinner snorted and pushed himself off the wall, turning towards the living room. “This ought to be good.”

Mulder followed, stepping over his coat and dropping his briefcase and keys beside it. “She was checking my ear – to make sure that it wasn’t infected.”

“As a prelude to checking your tonsils? Correct me if I’m mistaken, but isn’t Agent _Scully_ the doctor, not Agent _Fowley?_ ” Skinner stopped in front of the windows, his back pointedly to his lover.

“Walter, nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen.” When Skinner didn’t reply, Mulder said indignantly. “Don’t you _trust_ me?”

Skinner swung around, glaring. “Don’t you even go there! Of course I trust you – I love you, dammit! I just – “ He looked away, his shoulders suddenly sagging. “Look, Mulder,” he said, quietly. “I know that I can’t give you everything you need, and if you miss that, well, I guess I understand.”

Mulder looked at him blankly. “Miss what?”

“Women.”

Mulder rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah – like there was a lot of _that_ going on in my life. Walter, before we got together, I was getting a lot more action from my hand than anything else. For _years_.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you're het -”

“Excuse me? In case you haven’t noticed, for the past year I’ve been involved _exclusively_ with a man. And I intend to be involved with that man for a hell of a lot more years – that is, if he can get his head out of his ass long enough to listen to me.” He held out his hand to Skinner and said, coaxingly, “Come here, big guy.”

Skinner let himself be mollified when his lover took his face between his hands, kissing him gently and then pulling him into a hug. They were quiet for a long moment, just holding each other, and then Mulder turned his head and pressed a kiss against Skinner's neck.

"Walter?"

"Hmm?" Skinner's eyes were closed and he felt like he could stand there like that forever.

"You know that you don't have to worry, don't you?" Mulder's voice was soft, thick with emotion. "I mean, in the first place, you're a hell of a lot better kisser than Diana, even though I wasn’t kissing her today. And in the second, we just bought a money-pit of a house and I'm counting on you to keep that contractor in line – he's fucking huge and scares me to death. And in the third – "

"Fox."

"Huh?" Mulder lifted his head and looked into Skinner's eyes. The softness he saw there made his breath catch.

"I love you, too. Now shut up and take me to bed."

Mulder chuckled and dropped his head onto Skinner's shoulder again. "You have such a way with words, Walter."

"Evidently not good enough. We're still standing downstairs with all our clothes on."

Mulder grinned and pushed away from his lover, keeping hold of his hand. "I think I can fix that. Come on." He led the way upstairs to the bedroom and then pulled Skinner back into his arms again. “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are, big guy?”

Skinner snorted. “Now I know why she was checking for an infection. You’re delirious, Mulder.”

“Only with love for you.” Mulder laughed as his lover gave him a mock shove, and he bounced on his back on the bed. “Stud,” he said teasingly. “Come here and remind me who I belong to.”

Skinner rolled his eyes, even as he allowed Mulder to pull him down onto the bed. "And I thought you gave all your porn tapes to Frohike. Which, by the way, probably drove the poor man to a coronary."

"Not even close. His Mistress made him give them to Langley. Must have made for some interesting times at the Gunmen headquarters."

Skinner removed Mulder's tie and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. "Tell me why we're discussing your strange friends while getting ready to have sex."

Mulder grinned, sliding his hands up under Skinner's sweatshirt. "You brought it up, Walter - "

His lover ruthlessly silenced him and he abandoned the subject willingly, devoting his attention to getting them both naked as quickly as possible. Skinner was more than happy to assist in that endeavor and before long was sinking into the tight heat of his lover's body. Mulder groaned blissfully, wrapping his legs around his lover's waist and arching up against Skinner's hard body. He could never get enough of this, no matter how many times his lover took him. There was no way that anything with a woman could compete with this: the sensation of being filled and possessed, the heavy heat of a larger body holding him down and taking him to places he had never been. The rough scrape of stubble against his own stubbled jaw, against the softer skin of his neck. The firm lips that nuzzled his neck and devoured his mouth. The deep voice that murmured erotic endearments into his ear and moaned with desperate need. Mulder pulled Skinner's mouth down to his, doing his own devouring as he felt his body spiraling upward toward release. Desperate to pull his lover over the edge with him, he tightened his body as he felt the first waves crash over him, felt the hot heat pulsing between their bodies, and he heard his lover's shout of joyous climax as he screamed his own pleasure.

Skinner slumped down on top of his lover's body, too wiped to remember to roll to one side, and Mulder wrapped both arms and legs around his lover, keeping him in place for the moment. He loved the way it felt to lay here, spent and sated, sheltered under his lover’s heavier body. He turned his head to kiss Skinner's cheek, nuzzling him lovingly.

"Why would I want anyone else when I can have this?" he asked softly.

Skinner turned his head and kissed Mulder, briefly but lovingly, then settled them both in their accustomed positions for sleep. With his arms wrapped around his lover's body, Skinner let his doubts and fears slip away.

* * *

Krycek moved through the corridors of the Consortium’s D.C. headquarters with all the arrogant assurance of a man who knew exactly where he was going and what he was doing. That it was all a façade was something no one would ever guess, something that he wouldn’t admit even to himself in the darkness of the night. Self-reflection wasn't a healthy hobby in his line of work.

His new position within Strughold’s enclave had raised a few eyebrows but, in a world where loyalties were bought and sold, it wasn’t questioned. Krycek wasn't sure exactly what was in the letter that the Old Man had given him but the man that Krycek had taken it to had paled and then, quickly and efficiently, had integrated Krycek into the organization. So far, his duties had been light and, as he hadn't been required to shoot or be screwed by anyone, he was content for the moment to watchdog the younger Spender while he kept his ears open for anything that might be of help to his more secret agenda.

He smiled to himself as he remembered the previous evening. Strictly speaking, his orders had been to watch and protect Jeffrey Spender without letting him know. But while watching the younger Spender drink himself into oblivion and seeing the predatory looks he was attracting from a few unscrupulous patrons of the bar, Krycek had decided to intervene and get the young man safely home. What he hadn't expected was the chord of sympathy that Spender had struck within him - or the subsequent sexual arousal that the younger man's vulnerable innocence had stirred in him.

His mouth tightened at that, not noticing the nervous looks he received from those he passed in the corridor. It was just as well that whatever last shred of conscience he had left had intervened and prevented him from taking Jeffrey Spender up on his proposition. The last thing he needed was to get involved with anyone, especially when so many things about the younger man had forcefully reminded him of his long-lost self. He had a feeling that Strughold had assigned him this job for that very reason and with the assumption that Krycek would lead young Spender down the same garden path that he had been led down, drawing him deeper into the Consortium's fold. Ordinarily, Krycek would have shrugged and done just that - it certainly wasn't the worst assignment that he had ever had. But something about the young man held him back - the vulnerability under that arrogant self-centeredness was achingly familiar and reminded him too much of another agent, his first and most deadly failure. And, of course, of his own long-lost innocence.

A figure stepped out of the shadows right into his path and Krycek halted, abruptly thrown out of his thoughts. He warily studied the man as he stood silently smoking his cigarette, met the shrewd eyes that raked over him with arrogant familiarity.

"You want something, old man?" he asked, deliberate insolence in his voice.

"I understand that you made the acquaintance of my son Jeffrey yesterday evening," Cancerman said, unperturbed. "You would be well-advised to leave this matter in my hands."

Krycek crossed his arms. "I was assigned to watch him by Strughold. You got a problem with that, you take it up with him." He pushed past the older man.

"I doubt that Strughold's instructions included becoming Jeffrey's nursemaid - or his lover."

There was an edge to his words and Krycek turned back, amused. "What - your boy too good for the rest of us mere mortals?"

Cold eyes met his. "I have my own plans for Jeffrey and I will not tolerate your interference."

Krycek snorted at that. "Right. Setting that Fowley bitch on him was your idea of a _good_ move? And where were you and your _plans_ last night? The kid nearly got gobbled up by some of the sharks circling the water."

"That is my concern, not yours."

"Oh, yeah - I've seen the evidence of your _concern_ in the past," Krycek spat at him. "Just don't hold your breath on that Father of the Year award."

Cancerman's mouth tightened. "Your insolence is becoming intolerable. I suggest that you do not cross swords with me, Alex."

Krycek shook his head, a crooked smile on his face. "Your threats don't worry me, old man. You keep sending me to hell and I keep coming back. And, like I told you, you have a problem with my assignment, you take it up with Strughold." He turned his back again and walked away, aware with every step of the malevolence in the eyes fixed on him.

* * *

Mulder looked up warily as Agent Fowley entered his office. "Good morning, Agent Fowley. How's the report on that case coming along?"

Fowley ignored the statement, gritting her teeth, determined to get this over with. "Fox, I wanted to apologize."

Mulder blinked. "Excuse me?"

"For yesterday. And the way I've acted in regard to - us." Seeing the frown on his forehead, she said, hastily, "I know - there isn't any 'us'. I guess that...seeing you again, it brought back a lot of good memories - wishful thinking about what might have been."

"I understand," Mulder said gently. "But - "

"I know. I understand and accept the fact that you're in love with - someone else. And I promise that I won't come onto you anymore." She gave him a hopeful smile. "Do you think that we can be friends?"

"I hope so," Mulder said cautiously, not sure if he could trust this new line. And he was still pissed with the way she had gotten him into trouble with his lover, even if they had managed to make things right. They had enough problems without Diana Fowley's interference.

"Good." She turned to the other desk, all brisk efficiency again, and picked up a folder there. "I had some time yesterday afternoon and I went over this case we just received, reviewing your notes. I know that AD Kersh rejected the 302, but I think you have something here. Maybe if we put our heads together on this, we can come up with a new angle and get it past Kersh."

"Good idea," Mulder said. "Pull up a chair and let's see what we can come up with." As he rummaged in his desk for a fresh note pad, he missed the self-satisfied look on Agent Fowley's face.

* * *

 

Krycek clung to the shadows in the hallway, chewing his bottom lip while he debated what to do about the information he had just overheard. Strughold had been oddly delighted by the news of the reappearance of some old ship, going on about something called "Thor's Hammer", and all of Krycek's instincts for trouble had kicked in at that. Anything that made Strughold that happy had to be bad for the rest of the world. The only question was - what in hell could he do without tipping his hand?

He suddenly grinned and suppressed a laugh. A mystery ship, reappearing after being swallowed up by the Bermuda Triangle over sixty years ago? Mulder would grab the chance to look into this with both hands - and he was the only one who had half a chance of beating Strughold at whatever game the man was playing. Maybe it was time to look Mulder up - for old times sake - and drop this little tidbit in his lap.

Smiling to himself, he slipped out of the shadows and down the hallway, unaware of the sudden flare of light from a match in another shadowed doorway.

* * *

 

Scully sat at her "other" desk in the bullpen, concentrating on finishing up the paperwork on one of the cases that had been assigned to them by Kersh. It had turned out to be another attempt to yank their chains and Mulder's reaction to being sent off on another profiling case had been vitriolic enough that Scully had volunteered to do the paperwork. She sighed as she put aside the papers - she needed a little information from Mulder before she completed the report and he had been making himself scarce around the building that day.

She looked up with surprise when she saw the Gunmen approaching her desk. "What are you guys doing here?"

Frohike spoke first. "Mulder's in trouble."

"Big trouble," Langley added.

Like that was something new, she thought and frowned. "What do you mean?"

Byers looked around nervously, his eyes taking in the interested looks they were getting from the other agents. "Let's take a walk." Once they got her at the other end of the bullpen, the Gunmen quickly explained that Mulder had come to them early that morning with information that a ship that had disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle sixty years ago was rumored to have reappeared suddenly. He had urgently needed to get to the ship before anyone else did, and they had gotten satellite-imaging photos so that he could locate it.

"He chartered a powerboat out of Hamilton harbor and we tracked him on the satellite for an hour and a half," Byers finished.

Langley added, "Until a storm blew in and obscured all transmissions."

"What's happened to him?" Scully asked, then looked grim when they explained that there was no way to find out unless they went after him - and to do that, they'd need a copy of the tracking data. And quickly - before Mulder's luck and time ran out.

Scully swore under her breath. "We need help," she said, thinking hard. Preferably someone with connections to Naval Intelligence - and she had an idea who might have that. Jotting down what she needed to find out, she hurried out of the bullpen, snapping at the Gunmen, "Wait for me downstairs."

The Gunmen watched her stalk off towards Skinner's office. "Whew!" Langley said. "I wouldn't want to be in Mulder's shoes when he gets back."

Frohike snorted. "The hell with that. I wouldn't want to be in _Skinner's_ shoes right now!"

"Well, if we don't get going, it'll be _our_ asses in the sling," Byers pointed out, leading the way towards the elevators.

Langley rolled his eyes. "You've corrupted him, Frohike."

Frohike grinned as he followed his friends into the elevator. "You say that like it's a _bad_ thing."

* * *

 

Scully moved quickly into Skinner's office, past his protesting secretary without stopping to listen or explain. Skinner looked up from the phone call he was on, frowning. "What is it, Agent Scully?"

Her eyes met his, conveying the urgency of the matter as she said, "I've just received some very disturbing information, sir. I need your help."

Skinner ended his call and stood up, sighing. "You can't just come rushing in here - "

Scully interrupted him. "Sir, I couldn't waste time explaining myself to your assistant. It's about Agent Mulder." That caught his attention, as she knew it would, and his head jerked up, swiveling to meet her eyes. "He's done something incredibly rash - sir, he may be lost at sea."

Skinner's eyes darkened with worry.  Over the past few days, he'd become increasingly aware that Kersh was tightly under the control of the Shadow group that Mulder had been trying to unearth.  He was also aware that the scrutiny on him had increased, and that someone was laying traps for him at work, trying to trip him up.  They didn't appear to care what he or Mulder did outside of the Agency, but he was all too aware of the listening devices that seemed to appear in his office faster than he could get rid of them. That and the open door to his assistant's office. Even though he trusted Kim, he knew that anyone could walk into that office at any moment and hear what they were saying. 

"I can't help you," he said firmly, his eyes trying to convey a silent message to Scully, to tell her that this wasn't the place to discuss anything important.

Scully's eyes widened, surprised that he hadn't even asked for more information. "This isn't for me - it's for Agent Mulder," she emphasized.

"It doesn't matter. My hands are tied - I'm not your direct superior anymore.  I suggest that you consult him."  Subtly, he touched the ring on his finger, trying to indicate to her that she give the information to Mason who would find a way to get it to Skinner.

Scully gaped at him. She had expected him to swear, to yell, but not this quietly resigned tone. It was the last thing that she had expected to hear from Skinner, and she wondered if he and Mulder had had yet another fight.  Mulder had seemed so cheerful these last weeks, although the VCU consult they'd been pulled into had made his temper volatile  But surely Skinner would still care about Mulder, even if they were fighting. "Don't you even want to know what this is about?"

Skinner closed his eyes, willing the woman to shut up before she blurted out everything. "No, I don't," he said firmly as he began moving her towards the door. Maybe if he walked her to the elevator, they'd have a moment to talk privately. "I don't want to hear it."

Scully resisted his attempt to steer her out of his office, all but dragging her heels. "Sir, this is about a man's life!" Seeing that he appeared to be ignoring her, she caught his door and slammed it shut, ignoring Kim's indignant protest.

"You're out of line, Scully," he growled, exasperated.

"No, _you're_ out of line," she snapped back, unable to believe that Skinner wouldn't drop everything to run to the aid of his lover. "I'm sorry, but I'm coming to you for help, and I've got no where else to go."

She drew a deep breath, not wanting to beg but willing to do what she had to. "I would hope that, after everything we've been through, you would have the courtesy and the decency - not to mention the _respect_ \- to listen to what I have to say." She held up the piece of paper that she had jotted the information on. "Now, all I need is information - you don't have to do anything else."

Skinner took the paper, quickly scanning what she had written down, committing it to memory and Scully's eyes lit up with hope. "Sir, if you know anybody at the Office of Naval Intelligence, it would be of great help."

His mind already working on the problem, he spoke aloud, not even paying attention to the words he was saying.  "I could lose my job, my pension, I could even be subject to legal action."

The disappointed look on her face as she snatched back the paper told him that she didn't comprehend how dangerous the situation was and, as she gave an exasperated sigh and started to open the door, he slammed it shut. "Use your head, Scully," he said forcefully. "It'll save your ass."

Her eyes were sharp and cold, and he could read the hurt in them. "Save your own ass, Sir," she said bitterly. "You'll save your head along with it."

She stormed across the office and out the other door, into the hallway as she tried to think where she could go next. Heading down in the elevator, she went to A.D. Kersh's office and started the same spiel. It wasn't until she had pulled out the paper and was waving it around that she realized who else was in the office - Cancerman. Feeling foolish and starting to realize just how deep she was getting, she relinquished the paper at Kersh's order and left the office, wondering if she had just destroyed Mulder's only hope.

Mulder! Of course! She only had the Gunmen's word for it that Mulder was missing. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed his number frantically, muttering under her breath for him to answer. All she got was the recorded message.

Her heart began to race now and she stormed into the basement, hoping that Mulder left something in his desk that would help her track him. Agent Spender was sitting at Mulder's desk and looked up at her in surprise - and guilt. By now, she was ready to rip out someone's lungs and Spender looked like a good target. She crossed to the desk, grabbing a pad of paper, and snarled at him as she wrote quickly.

"I want you to do me a favor and it's not negotiable. Either you do it or I kill you. You understand?"

Spender gaped at her. "You okay, Agent Scully?"

"No, I'm not," she said frankly, and the cold look in her eyes made him swallow hard. "I'm a gun ready to go off so don't test me, Spender, and don't even think about trying to weasel me." She held up the piece of paper she had written on. "I'm looking for a boat. A1939 luxury liner."

"1939?"

"Don't ask too many questions," she snapped. "I don't care what you do, or who you do, or who you have to grease. I need this information and I need it now. Am I clear?"

He grabbed the paper and then glared at her. "Crystal," he said sarcastically, turning to leave.

"Agent Spender." He turned and looked at her and she said, grimly, "If you're not back in a hurry, I'm going to hunt you down and, so help me God - "

He felt a brief pain inside his heart. Mulder was one lucky bastard to have someone care this much about him. "Right." He pushed away a brief image of green eyes and headed up towards his boss' office.

Meanwhile, Scully paced restlessly in the office, trying to think of what over avenues she would pursue. When the phone rang, she picked it up and answered it without thinking. "Hello?"

"Agent Fowley?"

The voice sounded familiar and her suspicions were aroused. "Yes?"

"I was looking for Agent Spender."

Scully hesitated briefly and then replied, "I'm sorry, he's not here right now. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Agent Scully just handed the Assistant Director a piece of paper with some intelligence information scribbled on it - "

"Yes?" Scully prompted and, when there was no reply, said, "Yes, sir?"

"Who is this?"

Scully hung up and suddenly had a very bad feeling about the whole situation, that time had run out. She hurried out of the office, ignoring the phone ringing behind her, and ran into Kersh's secretary.

"Agent Scully? I was sent to come get you - "

Scully paused, trying to catch her breath long enough to think, to make plans. "I was waiting for Agent Spender," she said, stalling for time. "I'm supposed to pick up a delivery from him."

"Agent Spender is with Assistant Director Kersh."

Scully's mouth tightened - she should have known better than to trust Spender, she thought angrily. "That rat bastard!" she snarled, pushing past and into the elevator, slamming the up button. Once inside, she paced and muttered, "Stupid, stupid!"

Her phone rang and she answered it, her heart pounding. _Please Mulder_ , she thought, _please be you_. "Scully." The line was faint and she could just barely make out a male voice on the other end. "Mulder? Is that you?" More static and she put her hand over her ear, trying to concentrate on the voice on the other end. "I can't - I'm on an elevator - I'll be off in a second - "

The door opened and she started to get off, then saw Kersh and Spender in the hallway, talking. Hastily, she ducked back into the elevator and jabbed another button, then tried again to make out what the person on the phone was saying. It was no use, the reception inside the elevator was too bad. Frustrated, she paced and swung around as the elevator doors opened again -

To stare right into Skinner's face, a cell phone in his hand.

"Is that you?" they asked almost simultaneously.

Skinner quickly stepped into the elevator, letting the door close behind him. "I've been trying to reach you," he said in exasperation, holding up a folded piece of paper. "I've got the information you needed."

To his complete astonishment, Scully grabbed him and planted a quick, fierce kiss on his lips. "How?"

A bit stunned by her actions, he said wryly, "Don't even ask.  Just - don't come to my office anymore.  It's not safe, for either of you."

"Sir," she said, a smile beginning to dawn on her face. "What you've done - "

He smiled in return and said, softly, "Could save Mulder's ass. I know."

His eyes met hers squarely and she realized that she had once more underestimated this man. She drew a deep breath, resolving never to doubt him again, and to make amends in the only way that she knew. "I'll bring him back, Sir. I promise."

Skinner nodded and wanted to say more but the elevator doors opened again and, as he stepped out, he saw Kersh and Cancerman in the hallway. Quickly, he turned back and snarled, "And if you ever ask me to break policy or protocol, I'll have you written up, wrapped up, and tossed out of the FBI for good. Am I understood, Agent Scully?"

For a horrible moment, she thought that she was going to burst out laughing hysterically. She managed to gasp out, "Yes," before ducking back into the elevator and jabbing the button for the parking garage. "Yes!" she crowed triumphantly.

Realizing that she had crumbled the paper he had given her, she hastily unfolded it and scanned the co-ordinates that he had given her. It wasn't over - Mulder wasn't safe yet by a long shot and there was a good chance that the Consortium would get there before she did, but at least now they had a fighting chance.

The elevator doors opened and she raced out into the parking garage, jumping into the waiting van as they asked anxiously, "Did you get it?"

Grinning with triumph, Scully help up the note. "Yes!" And as they pulled out of the garage, she glanced back briefly and saw Spender racing after them - too late. She almost laughed and then turned her attention towards getting Mulder back. Back for his friends, for her, for the man who loved him.

 

* * *

 

Mulder was surrounded by blue mist, wrapped in it, drowning in it. Feebly, he tried to fight his way free but the thick stuff held him down, making his body feel like it weighed a ton. He couldn't tell which way was up or down, what was reality and what was a dream. A voice called to him, a familiar voice, and it echoed in the mist around him.

"Mulder. Mulder, it's me."

He groaned and tried to concentrate on the voice, forcing open eyes that felt too heavy to move and once more found himself drowning in blue. Only this time it moved. He blinked and the familiar face of his partner came into focus.

"Where am I?" he asked groggily. A hospital, he thought vaguely to himself, recognizing the familiar sounds and smells.

"You're in a hospital," she said and he nearly rolled his eyes. _Duh, Scully_ , he thought.

"I feel - " he groaned and tried to sit up.

"Lie still," she ordered.

The room was spinning and he collapsed willingly enough. " - like hell."

Scully looked at him in amusement and he wanted to glare at her but it seemed like way too much effort. "I don't blame you. You look like you've been through the wringer."

"What happened to me?"

She grinned widely now and said, "You did something incredibly stupid."

Mulder blinked at her, trying to remember. "What did I do?"

"You went looking for a ship -" She paused dramatically. "In the Bermuda triangle."

He blinked at her again. "Say that again?"

There was a tap at the door and he glanced over her shoulder to see the Gunmen enter, followed by Skinner.

"Gilligan awake?" Frohike quipped.

Memory suddenly surged back in and he sat up - or tried to. Scully pushed him back down and he let her as he said, "You were there. You were there, Scully. On the ship - in 1939 - with me."

The Gunmen exchanged a look. "He's delirious," Langley said, shaking his head.

Mulder ignored them, gesturing toward Skinner. "And he was there, too."

Skinner snorted at that, tossing the bouquet of flowers he had brought onto the bed table. "Right. Me and my dog Toto."

Mulder winced at that. His lover didn't look too happy at the moment and he had the feeling that Skinner was going to rake him over the coals at the first opportunity. "You were there with the Nazis," he insisted to Skinner.

Scully firmly pushed him back down on the bed. "Mulder, will you settle down? That's an order."

"Not that he takes orders," Skinner said wryly.

Mulder resisted the urge to stick out his tongue at Skinner, concentrating on making Scully believe him. "You saved the world, Scully."

She grinned at him, feeling pretty good about the way that things had turned out. "Yeah, you're right. I did."

"What kind of drugs is he on?" Byers asked and Langley quipped that he wanted some.

"No, no," Mulder insisted. "The Queen Anne. I found it. You were there with Thor's Hammer. I told you to turn the ship around and then I jumped overboard."

"Yeah, I bet you did. The boat you were on was busted into a million pieces." She leaned closer. "And as for the Queen Anne - it was nothing but a ghost ship."

"No, no, no. You and I were on that ship in 1939," Mulder insisted.

The four exchanged a look, then Skinner leaned over the side of the bed and said, "Get some rest, Mulder, because when you get out of here, I'm gonna kick your butt but good." He brushed a kiss over Mulder's forehead while the Gunmen chuckled and then shepherded them out so that Mulder could rest.

Mulder laid back on the bed, feeling the medication making him pleasantly woozy, and he smiled at his partner. "I thought I'd never see you again," he murmured. "But you believed me."

Scully smiled at him affectionately. "In your dreams." She leaned over his bed and said softly, "Mulder, I want you to close your eyes and think to yourself, 'There's no place like home.' "

He managed a laugh. "Scully," he called softly as she started to leave and she returned to his side, taking his hand and smiling down at him. Mulder looked at her for a long moment, thinking of all that they had been through in the past, imagining what she had gone through to get him back safely this time, and tried to think of a way to convey everything that he felt. "I love you."

She grinned at him and, teasingly, rolled her eyes. "Oh, brother!" she said with exasperated affection. "Go to sleep, Mulder. I'll be here when you wake up."

Mulder smiled and let his eyes drift closed.

* * *

 

Three days later, Scully pulled her car over in front of Viva Towers and looked at her partner. "Well, here we are."

Mulder looked out the car window at the building. It had taken him three days in the hospital to get over the effects of his little adventure and, although Scully had remained with him, Skinner had had to return to D.C. that first night which had left them no time to talk privately. And now that the time had come, he found himself thinking of reasons to put it off.

"You know, it's pretty late and I really don't want to wake him. You know how busy he is - needs his sleep and all. Maybe you should just take me back to my place."

"Mulder, it's nine o'clock on a Friday. I don't think he's asleep at this hour." She leaned over and said, teasingly, "Chicken."

"Me?"

"You." She sat back up. "Besides, the man's been looking forward to kicking your ass for days. I'd hate to deny him that pleasure - especially since you deserve it for that stunt you pulled."

"Some friend you are," he grumbled. She just laughed at that and the sound was so infectious that he couldn't help grinning. And suddenly it was really important that she know just exactly how glad he was that she was his friend and partner. "Um - Scully?"

"No, Mulder," she said with patient exasperation. "I won't come up with you, and I won't call and tell him that Kersh unexpectedly sent you out of town, and I - "

"What I said at the hospital," he interrupted. "I meant it. What I said about - you know. I mean - not in a romantic sense but - "

Scully paused and looked at him, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "I know, Mulder. I love you, too."

He let out a relieved sigh. "Good. I'm glad." They were silent for a few minutes, just enjoying the closeness, and then Mulder tilted his head sideways and gave her his best puppy-dog look. "You think you could call and tell him the hospital wouldn't release me yet?"

"Mulder!" she said in exasperation and shoved him. "Out! Now!"

"All right, all right, I'm going," he grumbled, opening the door and getting out. "You know, I think you've been hanging around Mason too much - you're almost as bossy as he is."

She grinned. "I'll be sure to tell him that." She laughed when Mulder blanched and called out, "Good night, Mulder!"

Mulder sighed and, for the second time in a week, approached his lover's apartment with trepidation. He unlocked the door and went in, surprised to find the front hall and kitchen dark. A quick look at the hall table told him that Skinner was home, so he had to be lurking about somewhere in the apartment. He tossed his keys on the table and took his hospital bag through the kitchen, pausing to set his prescription bottle on the counter before throwing his dirty clothes into the laundry room. Then he went in search of his missing lover.

He found Skinner standing in front of the large windows looking out over the city, his back to the room and his hands in the pockets of the faded jeans he wore. Uncertain of his reception - and just how angry Skinner was with him - he softly called out his lover's name and waited for the storm to erupt. To his surprise, Skinner just turned and pulled him close for a hug. He grinned as he wrapped his arms around Skinner and returned the hug.

"If this is ass-kicking, sign me up for more."

"Ass-kicking comes later," Skinner said dryly, his voice muffled against Mulder's shoulder. "For now, I just want to hold you."

Mulder was glad to co-operate. He reveled in the strong arms wrapped around him and the warm body pressed against his. He turned his head and buried his face against the warm flesh above the soft flannel collar, breathing deeply. "You smell good."

Skinner snorted and lifted his head. "Well, at least _one_ of us does. You smell like a hospital. Have I ever told you how much I _hate_ hospitals? Especially when _you're_ in one."

 _Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the ass-kicking portion of our evening program,_ Mulder thought resignedly. "Yeah, well I'm not particularly happy when it's _you_ in the hospital, either."

"Which happens a hell of a lot less often than your visits."

Mulder pushed away from Skinner. "Except when you put your life at risk - like you did when you got that information for Scully. How long do you think it'll be before they figure out that you were involved? Cancerman's just looking for a reason, any reason, to hang you out to dry."

"It was worth the risk. You were face down - unconscious - in the water when they found you. You could have been _dead_ right now!"

Mulder drew in a deep breath, trying to let go of the anger trying to push its way to the surface. He did _not_ want to get into a fight now, not tonight. "But I'm not, Walter. I'm fine. We're both fine - and I think that calls for a celebration." He reached out to touch Skinner's arm but Skinner pushed him away with a frown.

"You're a piece of work. You nearly _died_ , Mulder, and all you can think about is fucking?"

"It's called _life affirmation_ , Walter," Mulder snapped.

"Well then I guess it's a good think that Scully brought you here instead of dropping you at the office. God knows who you'd be kissing then!"

Mulder stared at Skinner incredulously, fury starting to build inside him. “Is this still about the kissing thing? I don’t believe you!”

“Mulder – “

"Where the _fuck_ do you get off getting in my face about kissing Diana or Scully or anyone else for that damn matter!" Mulder snapped. "Hell, you've fucked half the damn subs at the Club, if the stories are true, not to mention that whole fucking training thing with Mason. Oh, and let's not forget _Krycek_!"

Skinner stared at Mulder, bemused. "You kissed _Scully_?"

Mulder's anger faded and he sighed as he said, "Yes. No. Well, not really." At the puzzled look on Skinner's face, Mulder added, exasperated, "Look, it was while I was on that damn ghost ship – not that you believe that I was there in the _first_ place!"

"And you kissed Scully."

"Well, it wasn't _our_ Scully, but yeah, I kissed her. Then she hit me." He rubbed his jaw.

"Been wanting to kiss your partner for long?"

Mulder didn't know what to make of Skinner's odd tone of voice so, looking at his lover out of the corner of his eye, he said, "In the early days - yeah, I did. We had this whole flirtation/innuendo thing going and I really wanted to kiss her. But then everything got serious - her cancer, the Consortium, and all that - and we were dealing with so many other issues. By the time we got all that sorted out, you and I were together. I had always wondered…" He looked over at Skinner, worried because the other man was so still. "I love her, Walter, but not in the same way that I love you. I'm _in love_ with you."

"I know," Skinner said quietly, then gave his lover a half-smile. "And as long as we're confessing things here, I suppose I should tell you that Scully kissed me."

Mulder gaped at Skinner. "You're kidding, right? Our Scully kissed you? Not some dream manifestation or doppelganger or something."

Skinner cleared his throat, flushing a little. "It was Scully. I – it was right after I got her the information on your location, you see, and she'd been getting the run-around, and I think she was just so relieved – " He stopped, uncertain, as he saw that Mulder was grinning now. "What?"

"Seems that there's been an awful lot of kissing going on around here – except between us." He reached out and grabbed the front of Skinner's shirt, pulling him close and kissing him hard.

Skinner's arms went around Mulder's body, pulling their bodies tighter together. He loved the feel of his lover's long, lean body against him like this, craved the heat that seared him to the bone. Mulder deepened the kiss and Skinner let him, let the younger man take control of this encounter and this night. He needed this – needed to forget the lies and intrigue, needed to forget the gut-wrenching terror of knowing Mulder was in trouble and being unable to go to him, of having to balance on that precarious line between what he wanted to do and what he had to do. The look in Scully's eyes when she thought that he wasn't going to help her find Mulder was burned into his memory, and the knowledge that she had reason to doubt him shamed him to his soul.

He protested wordlessly as he felt Mulder ease out of the kiss. "Fox – "

"Shh," Mulder said firmly, giving him a brief, closed-mouth kiss. "It's okay, Walter. _We're_ okay, right?"

Skinner drew in a shuddering breath, nodding. "Yeah. We're good. But I'm still gonna kick your ass."

Mulder laughed softly. "Yeah, tough guy. You've got me shaking in my shoes here." He gave his lover another hard, heated kiss. Mulder felt the odd mood that Skinner was in tonight and knew that the older man needed him to take the lead for a while. "You're mine, and I intend to remind you of that tonight."

Skinner was deeply stirred and his hand shook slightly as he reached out to gently trace Mulder's face with his hand. "Possessive, aren't we?"

"Damn straight. And don't go kissing Scully or anyone else anymore, okay?"

"I promise, if you'll do the same."

Mulder's face softened. "I promise. You're the only one I want, big guy."

Skinner pulled Mulder into his arms, kissing him soundly. "Good. Because that's how I feel, too."

Mulder led him upstairs and undressed him slowly, kissing every inch of skin as it was revealed. Tenderly and thoroughly, he made love to Skinner, using hands and mouth to reassure and reconnect. Each touch was an apology for every minute of fear that his lover had suffered, each kiss an affirmation that he was there and would never willingly leave. Deeper and deeper Mulder led him into a world of sensual pleasure until, finally, Skinner's body couldn't withstand any more. He shouted out loud as waves of release swept over him, dimly hearing an echoed cry of pleasure as the shaft impaling him released its prize, and then darkness claimed him.

When he came back to himself a few minutes later, he was amused to realize that Mulder had passed out on him as well. Carefully, he shifted the younger man off of him and under the blankets, then gathered Mulder into his arms again. Mulder mumbled once and then easily shifted into sleep.

Skinner gently brushed the hair off the younger man's forehead, and pressed his lips against the warm skin. The thought that he had almost lost his lover - again - tore at his heart. The fact that he was nearly helpless to prevent it from happening again tore at his soul. Despair overwhelmed him and he fought down the mournful keening that wanted to pour out of him into the cold, unfeeling night. The weight of all the lies and half-truths, all the life-or-death decisions he made daily, weighed down on him so heavily that for a moment he couldn't breathe. And an overwhelming need for a release that was more than physical pleasure surged through him, forcing a low moan from him before he could catch it back.

Mulder stirred restlessly beside him and he stroked the younger man's back, soothing him back to sleep. He couldn't let Mulder wake up now. Those sharp profiler's eyes would look into his eyes and soul and see the desperate need that he was too weak to hide. And he couldn't bear to see the change in those too-vocal eyes when Mulder realized just how fragile the rock that he relied on was. He had to be strong - for Mulder, for both of them, and to Hell with the consequences.


	46. Seeking Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner faces his own needs and Mulder learns a few things about his lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote is from "The Panic in Me" by Elton John, Hans Zimmer, and Tim Rice from "The Road to El Dorado"

  
_Once in a while I slip back to my past_  
_Where I long to remain but the dream does not last_  
_In the trials of the present no matter how low  
_ _You bring me such peace and you won't let me go_

 

Mulder awakened slowly, aware of the faint daylight outside the window and of the emptiness of the bed next to him. He rolled into the still-warm space his lover had occupied and smiled sleepily. Saturday morning - his favorite day of the week and his favorite place to spend it. In bed, with Walter. Although, seeing that the latter part of that equation was missing, it wasn't nearly as much fun.

He slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom. "Walter?" There was no sign of his lover there and the shower wall was dry, so he decided that Skinner must be elsewhere in the apartment. He relieved himself and snagged the robe off the back of the bathroom door, then headed downstairs.

The smell of coffee and a dark silhouette by the window told him where his lover was and what he had been doing. Mulder smiled as he wrapped his arms around Skinner's waist and kissed the back of his neck. Skinner was such a morning person, even on days when they didn't have to get up.

"Morning, Walter," he said, suppressing a yawn. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Just watching the sun come up," Skinner said quietly, then turned his head to give Mulder a brief kiss and a smile. "Got any plans for today, babe?"

Mulder blinked in surprise. Now that their contractor had begun gutting their new home, they had a list a mile long of items that they had to decide on - windows, interior and exterior doors, flooring, wall-covering and paint, cabinets and fixtures. They had agreed that they would spend the first free weekend looking for the most important items and Mulder was surprised that Skinner didn't have a detailed plan of attack drawn up. Or that he hadn’t rousted Mulder from bed at the crack of dawn. Or that he'd postpone the shopping trip for anything short of disaster. Mulder was even positive that somewhere his lover had a detailed project timeline plotted out, with dates and times spelled out.

Out loud he said, "Nothing definite. Why?"

"I thought we'd go to the Club, spend the weekend playing."

"Is that part of the butt-kicking plan, Walter?" he said in amusement.

Skinner turned around to take Mulder in his arms, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Actually, no. You're not well enough yet for the butt-kicking I have in mind. When you're 100 percent, _then_ I'll take care of that."

"Gee, thanks, Walter," Mulder said in amused irritation. "Just the incentive I need to get well."

Skinner chuckled and kissed Mulder again. "So instead do you feel up to spending a weekend being a Pampered Pet?"

Mulder eyed Skinner with trepidation. "That makes me nervous. You're not going to let up on that Kitten thing, are you?"

Skinner grinned at that. "Nope. You lost, fair and square, and I intend to make you suffer. In the nicest way, of course."

Mulder rolled his eyes. "Oh, _that_ makes me feel better. Okay, fine – a weekend at the Club sounds good. My bag's in my trunk, but I haven't had a chance to prep recently."

"Don't worry about it," Skinner said. "We'll grab some breakfast at the Club and take our time. I haven't got a specific agenda in mind - you'll have plenty of time to pull yourself together."

"Sounds good," Mulder said. "I'll go throw some clothes on and be back down in a minute."

However, sitting in the dining room at the Club, he noticed that Skinner seemed distracted, his mind elsewhere. He toyed with his breakfast, his responses to Mulder’s comments were disjointed, and his concentration was nil. Mulder finally reached over, placing his hand on Skinner’s.

“Walter, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

Skinner sighed and shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just a little – distracted.”

“I noticed.” Mulder squeezed his hand. “We don’t have to do this. We can go to the park, maybe get a pick-up game. Or rent a couple movies and crash at your place for the afternoon.”

Skinner shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. I want to do this.” He took a deep breath and smiled at Mulder. “Tell you what. You go exercise and get cleaned up, and I’ll just stop by and talk to Geoff. Clear out a few cobwebs.”

Mulder nodded and leaned over to kiss Skinner briefly. “Sounds good. I’ll see you upstairs for lunch?”

Skinner nodded in reply and watched Mulder head out, the younger man seemingly unfazed by his recent brush with death. He sat for a few minutes, trying to settle the nerves that were doing aerial loops in his stomach, then drew in a deep breath and stood up.

Mason opened his door and looked at Skinner in surprise. “Walter! I didn’t expect to see you today. Where’s Mulder?”

“Upstairs, getting ready. Or in the gym.”

Mason raised an eyebrow as he ushered Skinner into the suite. “You don’t know for sure? That doesn’t sound like you, Walter.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly myself lately.” He walked over to the bookcase, unaware that Mason was watching him with narrowed eyes. “Where’s Sean?”

“At his doctor’s appointment. He’ll be back in about an hour.” Mason walked over to the playroom and opened the door. “And that should give us plenty of time.”

Skinner stayed where he was, pulling out a book and looking at its cover, and didn't even pretend that he didn't know what Mason was referring to. “I thought that I was past this," he said lowly. "I thought that I’d be able to – you know – release this stress by playing with Mulder.”

Mason leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Not unless you’re letting Mulder take care of your needs. All of them, not just the sexual ones. And I don’t think that you are.”

Skinner swung around, staring at Mason. “Are you saying that I should? Would you let _Sean_?”

Mason shook his head. “It’s not the same thing. I don’t have the same needs that you do – besides which Sean has enough problems to deal with. Mulder’s a whole different matter. And he’s a lot tougher than you think.”

Skinner turned back to the bookcase. “He almost got killed this past week. Again. When they found him, he was floating unconscious in the water. Face down.”

“I hope you kicked his ass for that.”

Skinner shook his head helplessly. “I didn’t. I threatened to but - I _can’t_. Geoff, he was in trouble and I couldn’t help him.”

“And you think that blaming yourself and letting him slide is _helping_? I _know_ that I taught you better than that.”

Skinner made an impatient sound. “This isn’t a game, Geoff. This is real life. I can’t just go all Dom on him and put him through a scene.”

“Then you need to come up with something else, or that boy’s going to end up dead,” Mason said grimly. “But first, you have to get yourself back under control.” He crooked his finger at Skinner. “Come along, Piglet.”

Skinner sighed and followed Mason into the playroom. "Do we really have to do this?"

"You know the answer to that or you wouldn't have come here in the first place." Mason walked over to the cabinet, pulling out one of the paddles and a couple floggers. He returned to Skinner, gently caressing his cheek. "It's okay, Peaches. I'll take care of you, just like I always did."

Skinner nodded silently and began unbuttoning his shirt, folding it carefully before placing it on the table. He did the same with his pants, then stripped off his briefs and socks, adding them to the pile. Taking a deep breath, he moved into place over the spanking bench, feeling the years roll away as he did. His stomach churned and he was barely aware of the man moving around him, checking his placement and securing the straps at his wrists and ankles, so that when Mason placed his hand on the small of his back he nearly jumped.

"Easy, Peaches," Mason said soothingly. "It's all right. Just relax and let it all go."

Skinner let out a breath, cutting off the sob that wanted to follow it. Too early for that - once he started crying Mason would stop and he had too much atoning to do. For all the lies, no matter how good the intent. For the times he’d been forced to cater to the smoking man's demands. The cover up and what that had done to Mulder's trust in him. His ex-wife - the failure of their marriage and her near-death at the hands of his enemies. Krycek, and all the betrayals since him. Sending young agents to their deaths. Sitting across the desk from his most brilliant team and having to deny and bury their findings for their own good. Seeing the skeptical distrust in Scully's eyes and the hopeful wariness in Mulder's. And seeing every mark they put on Mulder, both his body and his soul, while he was helpless to do anything about it.

He was barely aware that Mason had begun working over his with the light flogger, caught up as he was in the turbulent emotions filling him. He was totally unaware that he was saying everything out loud, all his perceived sins flooding out of his mouth, unstoppable. Mason let him talk, let him purge all the pain out of his heart, his hand moving in rhythm with the flood of words. Halfway through, he switched to the medium-weight flogger, distributing the pain throughout Skinner's back, and he heard the first sob break behind the other man's words. He switched to the paddle and landed a series of hard, fast swats, pulling the last of the pain from Skinner, aware of when the pain flipped over into pleasure, sending Skinner soaring even as he sobbed out the last of his pain and guilt.

Mason quickly set aside the paddle and unfastened the straps, then pulled the other man up from the bench and into his arms. Pressing Skinner's head against his shoulder, he stroked the younger man's back, crooning words of comfort and reassurance until he felt Skinner's shaking lessen.

"It's okay, Walter," he murmured softly. "You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders - you can let it go for a while." Skinner nodded his head against Mason, his throat still too tight for words, and Mason could feel him relax.

A sound from the outer room made Mason swear under his breath, and then he let go of Skinner enough to take the other man's face in his hands. "Walter, Sean's back and I need to talk to him, ask him to give us some time here. Why don't you go in the bathroom and splash some water on your face? I'll be back in a few minutes." Skinner nodded and Mason squeezed him gently. "Good man." He let Skinner go and headed towards the main room.

Meanwhile, Sean entered the suite, tossing his jacket on the couch and looking for his lover. “Geoff?”

Mason came out of the playroom. “Hello, baby. How was Dr. Kate’s?”

Sean shrugged. “Same old, same old.” He snuggled into Mason’s arms and noticed that he was damp. Frowning, he pulled back and looked up into his lover’s face. “You’re all sweaty. What’s up?”

“Walter’s here. I’ve been taking care of him.”

Sean's eyes widened. "What's wrong with Walter? Did something happen to Mulder? God - they aren't fighting again, are they?"

Mason set his hands on Sean's shoulders, quieting him down. "It's all right, Sean. Mulder's gotten himself into a scrape but he's okay. Walter says that _they're_ okay - and Mulder is having a swim. Why don't you go join him?"

"You want me out of the way for some reason? Oh shit - you're got to punish him, right?"

Mason shook his head. "I have to take care of him. He's been under a lot of pressure and needed me to release that, and now I need to finish taking care of him."

Sean's mouth dropped open and he pushed away from Mason abruptly. "I don't believe you! You put him through a scene, didn't you?"

Mason frowned at his lover. "What of it? I put Dana through scenes and you don't blow a gasket like this."

"Yeah, well, you don't fuck Dana!"

"And I'm not going to fuck Walter, either."

Sean snorted derisively. "Right. Pull the other one - it's got bells on it."

"Sean," Mason said patiently. "Putting aside the fact that I pledged you my fidelity, I _wouldn't_ have sex with anybody else. Yes, we take precautions but the fact of the matter is that I'm sharing intimate living space with a man who's HIV positive. That makes me a high-risk partner for anyone else, and I certainly wouldn't risk Walter's health."

Sean dashed away angry tears and snapped, "Oh, fine! Make it _my_ fault that you can't go in there and screw your precious Walter’s ass through the floor!"

Mason drew in a deep breath and gritted his teeth, resisting an impulse to shake his unreasonable lover. "I don't want to screw anyone's ass but _yours_. Although in another minute, little boy, I'm going to spank it instead!"

"Save it for _Peaches_ ," Sean said snottily and then slammed out of the suite.

Mason resisted the impulse to go after Sean, knowing from painful experience that the younger man needed a little while to cool off before he'd be reasonable. He drew a deep breath and went back into the playroom to face his other problem.

Skinner was dressing and he looked up when Mason came in. "I heard Sean shouting and the door slamming. Is everything all right?"

Mason smiled wryly. "My brat decided to throw a jealous fit and slammed out of here. And why are you dressed? We're not done yet."

"Sean's upset that I'm here - I'll just go - "

"No, you won't," Mason said firmly. "I promised you a long time ago that I'd always be here for you and I don't break my promises."

"But Sean - "

"Will be okay. He'll blow off some steam telling JP how horrible I am to him, then he'll cool down and come back here feeling remorseful." He drew Skinner into his arms, grasping his chin so that he could look Skinner right in the eye. "And you are _not_ to start blaming yourself for this. Do you hear me, Piglet?"

Skinner smiled faintly. "Yes, Master Geoff."

"Good." Mason led Skinner into the living room, settling down on the couch and pulling the other man down to rest in his arms. "Now just relax and let me finish taking care of you."

Skinner stretched out on the couch, his head on Mason’s lap, and sighed contentedly. It felt good to let go of everything, let someone else take care of him for a while. He felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. Mason was stroking his head soothingly and Skinner let his eyes drift shut.

“That was a lot of pain that you were holding onto,” Mason said softly. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

Skinner shrugged. “It hasn’t been so bad – I’ve been able to deal with it, for the most part. It’s just – this last incident with Mulder…”

Mason encouraged the younger man to roll over onto his stomach and began massaging Skinner’s shoulders. “What was so bad about it?”

“Scully came to me, asking for my help,” Skinner said lowly. “Right there in my office – which I’m almost certain is bugged. I had to turn her down, rather forcibly. Geoff – the look on her face – it just brought back all the betrayals and lies and deaths on my hands.”

“You did what you could, Walter. Mulder is safe and alive.”

“Speaking of which, I had better find him – “

Skinner started to get up but Mason firmly pushed him back down. “In a few minutes. I want to talk to you first.”

Skinner groaned at the tone in Mason’s voice. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like this?”

“Because I always make you face things that you’d rather not,” Mason said pointedly. “Walter, you were holding _years_ worth of pain inside you, and you know that’s not healthy. You need to find some way to release it.”

“Are you talking about letting Mulder beat me?” Skinner looked up at Mason curiously.

“If you’d like. A year ago, I’d have said no, but he’s grown up a lot. He’s learning how to deal with his own issues, and doing better than I expected. And I think that if he sees you handling your own guilt in a positive manner – and letting him help you do that – it would encourage him to do the same thing. Maybe he’d stop throwing himself in the way of trouble.”

Skinner raised an eyebrow. “I know that I’ve never told you that much about him.”

Mason smiled faintly. “You aren’t the only one with guilt issues – nor the only one frustrated by Mulder’s recklessness. Dana’s talked about him quite a bit.”

“But won’t it – change things if I turn that over to Mulder?” Skinner said hesitantly.

“Of course it will, but changes don’t have to be bad. Walter, you and Mulder are planning to move in together, to spend the rest of your lives together. And I don’t think that Mulder’s going to let you get away with the shit that you pulled with your ex-wife.”

Skinner smiled at that. “No, Mulder’s always there, pushing at any walls that I try to put up. But I was thinking that it would make things confusing for us here.”

“Why? Lots of players switch off. And you don’t top Mulder exclusively outside of here, do you?” He chuckled at the flush in Skinner’s cheeks. “Ah, Peaches, you still blush so well!” he said, patting those cheeks affectionately.

“If you’re concerned about it, discuss setting up clearly defined boundaries. And if you really feel like you can’t do this with Mulder, then find other ways to release your guilt and frustration. I don’t have to tell you how unhealthy repressing this is, do I?” Skinner smiled faintly and shook his head. “Good. Because I still have that crop you love so much, and I still know how to use it on your ass. Don’t make me have this talk with you again, understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Skinner said, smiling.

“Good. Now go find your boy and take care of him,” Mason said, pushing Skinner up from the couch, then sighed. “And I have to get ready to handle my own.”

* * *

Sean stormed into the main part of the Club, going into the kitchens in search of comfort - and comfort food - and came up short in both areas. Jean-Pierre was attending to personal business during the lull before luncheon and Sean was shooed away from the dessert cart being carefully built. Sulking, he went into the foyer and debated briefly about leaving the Club to indulge in a shopping orgy at some of his favorite Georgetown stores. Realizing that he had left his wallet in his jacket in the suite and would have to go back to get it made him change his mind. Mason would no doubt see that as a sign of surrender and Sean had no intention of letting the other man score a victory that easily.

He wandered into the gym and saw a familiar figure cutting through the water of the pool. Mulder was swimming effortlessly, as if he hadn't a care in the world. Unfair, Sean thought resentfully, when Mulder’s lover was occupying all of _Sean's_ lover's time. He sat down on the side of the pool, pouting.

Mulder touched the side of the pool and, seeing familiar feet dangling in the water, stopped to catch a breath. The fact the legs attached to those feet were wearing sweat pants that were rapidly absorbing water was enough to capture Mulder's attention and he pulled off his goggles so that he could see the younger man better.

"Something wrong, Sean?"

"Go 'way," Sean said sulkily.

"Okay," Mulder said reasonably, getting out of the pool and grabbing his towel. Then he reached down and pulled the younger sub to his feet.

"Hey!" Sean protested. "I said 'go away'."

"Yeah, well you also came here looking for me, so I'd say that was a mixed message." He toweled his body dry and slipped his sweatpants on over his Speedo. "Let's go somewhere and talk."

Sean glared at Mulder as he followed. "Bossy, aren't we? Been hanging around with the Doms too much, Mulder. You're starting to sound like them."

Mulder looked at Sean in surprise. In the year that he had known Sean, he had never seen the younger man behave like this. "What crawled up your butt and died?"

"Oh, very witty, Mulder," he said nastily.

Mulder saw that they were near the library and, checking that it was empty, yanked Sean inside and locked the door. "Look, I don't know what's eating you, but I'd appreciate it if you'd just come right out and tell me what's bothering you instead of taking these juvenile pot-shots at me."

He had half-expected Sean to snap at him again but instead the redhead bit his lip and turned away. He curled up in a chair, clutching a throw pillow to his chest and looking like he wanted to cry. Startled, Mulder crouched down by the chair and said, gently, "Hey, it can't be as bad as all that?"

"Geoff hates me."

Mulder snorted. "Right. I can see that happening, right about the time they make me Pope."

"Oh, I know he loves me," Sean said bleakly. "But he also hates me a little bit. I've made his life hell. He’s always worrying about me, taking care of me, keeping me out of trouble. And I've taken the one thing he really enjoyed away from him. If it weren't for me, he could have half the subs at his feet, taking care of _him_. And he could be playing with his Peaches the way he _really_ wants to right now - "

Intrigued, Mulder said, "He calls Scully ' _Peaches_ '?"

Sean's head jerked up and he slapped both hands over his mouth as he realized what he had said. " _Shit_! He's going to _kill_ me!"

Mulder's eyes went wide. "You mean _Walter_? He calls Walter ' _Peaches_ '?" A big grin crossed his face at that as several wicked thoughts for utilizing this new knowledge occurred to him. "Well, what do you know?" Then he realized what else Sean had said and looked at Sean with a frown. "He's got Walter in there right now? That's not fair - it wasn't Walter's fault that I got into trouble." He headed towards the door.

"Mulder - wait!" Sean said and Mulder turned back. He was surprised when the younger sub wouldn’t meet his eyes. "He's not punishing Walter. He - well, he put him through a scene."

Mulder's eyes widened and he came back to sit beside Sean. "But - I thought that they didn't do that anymore."

"Evidently Walter needed it, and a good trainer's always there for his students."

"Walter needed what?"

Sean sighed, slumping back into his chair. “It’s tough being a Dom, Mulder. I mean, when we’re having a bad week, we turn to them to help us decompress. And sometimes they need that too.”

Mulder shook his head. “I can’t see Walter going through a whole submission thing, even with Master Geoff.”

Sean snorted. “Just because you can’t picture it doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Sometimes the people who appear the strongest are the ones who need nurturing the most.” Then he bit his tongue, determined not to say anything more.

Mulder said slowly, "That paddle Mason gave us – it had Walter's name on it, too, and it had been there a while. So Mason used to use it on him - and not for punishment, right? So - some kind of release, and not really sexual or Walter wouldn't need that today…"

He leaned his head back on the couch, his head tilted back to study the ceiling as he began fitting all the puzzle pieces together. So Walter S. Skinner, tough guy and Dom-extraordinaire, occasionally needed to be paddled – apparently not to get off on the eroticism of it but to release those emotions Skinner held so deeply in check. Mulder drew a deep breath and let it out. Okay, he could understand that – heaven knew that the man needed some way to depressurize from the stresses of his job, the pressure from the Consortium, and all the other burdens that the man carried. Otherwise, Skinner was a prime candidate for heart attack, high blood pressure, stroke –

A sudden wave of terror at the thought of losing his lover made him turn pale and Sean said, uneasily, “Are you okay, Mulder? I - I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's okay," Mulder said, closing his eyes and swallowing back the fear. And inside, the old litany started up again. _Stupid, self-centered, never thinking of anyone but yourself_. “I’m not upset. It’s just – I never thought that Walter might need something like that. I guess I should have, huh?”

“Not necessarily,” Sean said, worried that Mulder seemed to be taking this personally. “I mean, he’s a big boy, right? He should know what he needs.”

Mulder nodded but in a way that made Sean think that he really hadn’t heard him. As Mulder stood up slowly and walked towards the door, Sean said sharply, “Mulder – where are you going?”

“I’m okay,” Mulder said distantly. "Just need to think."

The door closed behind him and Sean stared at it for a long while, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he dragged himself up from the chair and went to face Mason.

Mason was sitting on the couch facing the doorway when Sean entered, and the serious look on his face made Sean swallow hard.

“Hello, brat. Have you gotten over your sulk already?”

“Yes, Geoff,” he said in a small voice. “And I’m – I’m sorry that I acted bad.”

“I know, little boy,” Mason said gently. “And we’ll deal with that later. You're in for a hell of a spanking for that tantrum you threw. But right now I want you to come over here and let me cuddle you for a little while.”

Sean swallowed again, tears filling his eyes. “I – first I think that I’d better tell you what else I did. You – you might not want to forgive me so easily.”

Mason stood up and crossed the room, pulling Sean into his arms. “Sweetheart, there is absolutely nothing that you could do that I couldn’t forgive. I might get angry with you, but I’ll always forgive you.”

Sean buried his face against Mason’s chest. “I – I was so mad. And I couldn’t find JP. And I couldn’t even go out and spend a fortune – left my wallet here.”

Mason chuckled at that and tousled Sean’s hair. “Poor brat,” he said teasingly. “So what did you do?”

“I – I went to the gym. And Mulder was there. And I didn’t mean to tell him, and I didn’t know that he’d get so upset – “

Mason sighed. “Sean Michael Matthews, how you get into these predicaments is beyond me.” He heard another sob from the young man and picked him up. Carrying him over to the chair, he sat down, cradling his lover on his lap, and then reached for the phone.

* * *

Skinner entered his suite, surprised not to find Mulder waiting for him in the main room. A quick look in the bathroom told him that Mulder wasn’t there either and he frowned. Surely Mulder wasn’t still working out? He knew that in the past Mulder had pushed himself to the point of exhaustion when he was feeling troubled, but Mulder had seemed to be fine this morning.

Looking around the suite, he caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the dining table. A quick glance in the closet told him that Mulder’s things were gone and his stomach dropped. Picking up the paper, he sat down on the bed and opened it up.

_Walter – I’m sorry about this weekend. I’m okay – I just have some things to think about. I’ll call you later. Fox_

He stared at the note, stunned, and wondered what had happened. The phone rang and he snatched it out of its cradle. “Fox?”

“It’s me,” Mason said. “I take it that he’s not there?”

“He left. Took his bag with him.” Skinner drew a shaky breath. “There’s a note – it says that he has some things to think about. I don’t know what happened – “

“Sean,” Mason said crisply, and Skinner heard a muffled sob from the younger man. “Evidently Mulder came across him before he got a chance to unload to a safer audience. Sean told him that you were with me, going through a scene. He says that Mulder went quiet and pale, then left.”

Skinner swore under his breath. “I have to find him – he must have taken a cab or the Metro since he rode here with me. He can’t have gotten too much of a head start on me – “

“Walter,” Mason said softly. “You’ll find him. You’ve already gone through so much – I’m sure that you’ll get past this. And if you need our help, just call.”

“Thanks. I will.” Skinner hung up the phone, grabbed his bag, and hurried out of the suite.

* * *

 

A brief stop by the front desk confirmed that Mulder had turned in his card but hadn't called a cab. Skinner hurried down to his car in the parking garage and headed in the direction of the Foggy Bottom Metro station, ignoring the blaring horns behind him as he slowed down each time he saw a dark-haired man. There was no sign of Mulder so he decided that the younger man must have caught a cab after all. He headed back towards his apartment, hoping that he'd find his pissed off lover there. But the apartment was empty, echoing his voice as he called out Mulder's name. Back in the car, he headed over to Alexandria where he found Mulder's car still parked out in front but no sign of his lover in the empty apartment. He did notice that Mulder had been packing recently - the bedroom that Mulder rarely used was filled with boxes and it looked like Mulder had been sorting through them. There was even a stack of sealed boxes against one wall labeled "New House" in Mulder's handwriting.

New house.

Skinner raced out of the apartment and down the stairs. Heading towards the older part of the city, he turned into the narrow alley that ran along the back of the property and parked the car into the roughly graveled pad. He entered the house through the back door, relieved to see the lights come on when he flipped the switch. Looking around the main floor, he saw signs that the work crew had already begun opening up the two central units, including a gaping hole where the staircase in this unit had been, but there was no sign of his lover. He ducked under the scaffolding to reach the other side, looking down the stairs and then up. Deciding that it was more likely that Mulder would have gone up, he hurried up the stairs.

There was no sign of his lover on the second floor, but as he climbed the last flight to the top floor, he heard Mulder's voice, low and flat, the way it always sounded when Mulder was upset about something.

"Why in hell do you put up with me?"

He paused on the stairway and looked up, seeing the pale outline of his lover’s face with the faint afternoon light coming in through the window in the room behind Mulder. "I hope that's a rhetorical question, because if it's not, that's two things that I'm gonna kick your ass about."

Mulder didn't appear to have heard him. "I'm a self-centered bastard. I don't know why you even tolerate me."

Skinner sighed and rubbed his face, gingerly sitting down on the landing next to Mulder, his ass still tender from Mason’s treatment. "I take it that this has to do with what Sean told you."

Mulder lay back on the floor, staring up at the peeling paint on the ceiling with unseeing eyes. "You stick your neck out for me, time after time, at work and don't try to tell me that you haven't ruined your professional career because I know better. At the Club, you take care of my every need - and some I didn't even know I had. You've willingly walked back into a dark place in your life to give me the pain I sometimes need. But who takes care of you?"

Skinner was startled. He had been bracing himself for accusations, for a jealous scene, for anger and feelings of betrayal. But this self-blame was the last thing that he had expected to hear - although he realized that he should have. Mulder had the biggest martyr complex that Skinner had ever seen.

"You do, Fox," he said softly, reaching out to try and pull his lover into his arms but Mulder evaded his reach, getting up and walking over to the dormer window.

"See - even now you're trying to comfort _me_. You're worried about _me,_ not about yourself."

Skinner drew a deep, calming breath. "That's because I'm not the one in hysterics. I feel fine - "

Mulder snorted. "Of course you feel fine! Probably for the first time in years! How could I have been so clueless - no, worse than that! I didn't even _care_ if you had needs I wasn't meeting - "

"All right, Mulder, that's quite enough," Skinner said sharply, and the crisp tones in his voice caught Mulder up shortly in mid-tirade. He got up and walked over to the window, forcing Mulder to look at him in the eye.

"You want to kick yourself for something that you did? Fine - start with this whole Bermuda Triangle incident and knock yourself out. But when you start beating yourself up over something that you _didn't_ do, that's where I have to draw the line."

"But - "

"No." Skinner firmly took his lover into his arms. "Not your fault, Mulder. Do you hear me? I didn't tell you and there's no way that you could have known without me telling you. Unless you've suddenly become a mind reader, which I doubt."

"But - "

"No." Skinner kissed Mulder, silencing him effectively.

When he finally let Mulder breathe again, the younger man dropped his forehead onto Skinner's shoulder. "Sorry," he murmured.

"You should be," Skinner's hands ran soothingly over Mulder's back and he said, affectionately, "Idiot."

Mulder made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Walter, your counseling techniques could use a little work."

Skinner smiled; Mulder was sounding more like himself. "I was out on the day that they offered sensitivity training."

"Probably at some damn hospital with me."

"Are you going to start that again?" Skinner said severely. "I'm more than willing to start doing some ass-kicking right here, right now."

Mulder chuckled and wrapped his arms around Skinner, relaxing against his lover. "Bully."

"You bet. I learned from the best." He kissed Mulder's hair, the only part of his head that he could currently reach. "Speaking of which, are you okay with that?"

Mulder shrugged. “Do I have a choice? You’ve been with Mason longer than you’ve been with me."

"But you don't like it," Skinner said shrewdly. "Would it help to know that Sean is just as jealous and unhappy about the situation?"

"Tell me about it," Mulder snorted. "He ran into me in the gym and I thought I'd been mauled by an angry bear." He was quiet for a moment then asked, diffidently, "Walter, do you mind if I ask you something?"

Skinner pulled back so that he could study his lover's face again. "Ask anything you want."

"What do you get out of it? What Mason does to you, I mean. I understand about the punishment thing that Mason put you through a couple months back. I didn't like it, but I accept that it's some sort of Dom-chain-of-command thing. But this wasn't punishment, was it? Do you - um - "

"Get off on being spanked?" Skinner said, amused by the sudden flush on Mulder's face. "Under the right circumstances, yes, I have. But this wasn't an erotic spanking and, no, I didn't get off on it."

"So it's a stress-relief thing?" Skinner was quiet and Mulder said, hurriedly, "I'm sorry - I'm asking too much - it's none of my business - "

"Fox," Skinner said, keeping his lover from escaping from his embrace. "It _is_ your business." He gestured to the room around him saying, "We're getting ready to move in together, to share every aspect of our lives. You have every right to know. It's just - this isn't easy for me to talk about - Geoff literally had to beat it out of me." He drew a deep breath. "Sometimes it all gets too much for me - the juggling act with the Consortium and my superiors in the Justice department, sending young agents on assignments that can lead to their deaths." He looked at Mulder steadily, not trying to hide the pain. "Being unable to openly help the man I love, knowing that his life is in the balance. Seeing the distrust on Scully's face."

"Walter," Mulder said, his throat tight. "We both know that you're a good man."

Skinner shook his head. "I don't know, Mulder. Nothing is black and white anymore. And sometimes, when it all gets to be too much, I need some way to release all the pain and guilt. To be taken down into myself and set free. That's what Mason gives me." He stroked Mulder's face tenderly. "Do you understand?"

"I understand that he gives you something that I can’t."

Skinner drew in a deep breath and then took the plunge. “Do you want to?”

Mulder looked up at him, startled. “Do I want to _what?”_

"Give me that." He relished the look of dawning comprehension followed by blinding joy on his lover's face.

"You'd do that?" Mulder asked incredulously. "You'd trust me to take care of you like that?"

"Mulder, I've trusted you with my life, my career, my heart, my body and my soul. Why wouldn't I trust you with this?"

"Because I don't know what the hell I'm doing," Mulder said frankly. "What if I hurt you? What if I push you too hard? What if - "

Skinner covered Mulder's mouth with his fingers and smiled. "Mulder, relax. I'm not asking you to become a Leather Dom."

Mulder grinned at that. "What a relief! I don't think I have the constitution for that - although I like the wardrobe that comes with the job." He sobered up and said, "I don't think I could do that at the Club. It would be too confusing - I'm used to submitting to _you_ there. But we could incorporate this into some role-playing games here. Is that all right?"

Skinner chuckled. "I don't know if I like the gleam in your eyes. Just what did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know." His eyes twinkled at Skinner. "There's always the Hun and the Nun."

Skinner snorted. "Right. You just _try_ to find a nun's habit in my size!"

"Is that a challenge, Walter?" Mulder asked, sliding back into Skinner's embrace with a grin.

"No. Definitely not," Skinner said hastily.

"Good. Because you know that I thrive on challenges." He nuzzled at Skinner's neck. "Although, personally, I like the idea of being a cut-throat pirate and you being my handsome and stubborn prisoner, a former captain of the British Navy."

"This obsession you have with pirates and the sea," Skinner teased as his arms wrapped around Mulder and he tilted his head back, giving Mulder more room to work. "Mulder, I hate to burst your illusion, but cut-throat pirates rarely took prisoners."

"Oh, but I recognized your potential - for ransom - the moment I saw you, standing on the forecastle of your ship, afraid of nothing even as my cannons tore your ship apart," Mulder said, his hands pulling Skinner's shirt free of his pants so that he could touch the warm flesh underneath. "I knew that I had to have you."

Skinner closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensations that Mulder's talented hands and mouth were producing. "Ah, but as a dedicated officer, it would be my duty to attempt to escape."

"Of course." Mulder nipped at Skinner's shoulder sharply. "And it would be my duty to punish you, to strip this gorgeous body and whip you with the cat until you screamed." His hands began to deftly unbutton Skinner's shirt. "After which, I would tend my brave, wounded prisoner in my own cabin." He unbuttoned and unzipped Skinner's pants, pushing them downward as he slid to his knees. He pressed kisses along the naked flesh, along the aroused cock as he caressed it with his hands. "Where I would tend to your wounds until you were healed."

Skinner gasped and his knees buckled as Mulder suddenly took him into his mouth, all the way to the root, and his hands automatically went to Mulder's head for balance. "Jesus, Mulder!"

"Mmm," Mulder said unintelligibly, then drew back to grin up at Skinner. "I can see that this pirate is going to need to secure his prisoner so that he doesn't try to take control." He slid back down the length of Skinner's cock.

"You can take anything you damn well want," Skinner growled, closing his eyes and throwing back his head as the heat built inside him. He tried not to thrust into the hot mouth pleasuring him but it was difficult. Mulder was doing that incredible thing with his tongue, and it was so good, and he was losing all control. Mulder had grasped him firmly by the thighs, holding him in place as he determinedly worked over the heated flesh, encouraging him to let go. Another flick of that tongue, then Mulder pulled him deep into his throat and that was it. Skinner felt his climax burst over him, shooting into the greedy mouth that swallowed and sucked and licked, milking him till nothing was left.

Skinner's legs collapsed under him and he was grateful when his lover eased his sex-sated collapse. He found himself kneeling on the floor, a drop cloth under his bare knees, his shirt open and his pants around his ankles. He chuckled shakily.

Mulder was sitting on the floor in front of him and there was a smug grin on his face. "You okay, Walter?"

Skinner took a deep breath and gave his lover a crooked smile. "Good thing for the British Navy that I'm not really with them - after that, I'd gladly switch sides."

Mulder chuckled. "Ah, another pirate secret is revealed. Not only are we good with cutlasses, but also with our mouths. Of course, now that you know our secrets, you'll have to join us or die."

Skinner reached out to pull Mulder into his arms, kissing him thoroughly. "I'd much rather repay the gallant pirate captain in kind and then see exactly how good you are with your sword." He rapidly stripped Mulder and pushed him back onto the drop cloth, his mouth renewing its familiar inventory of Mulder's body. Mulder groaned and clutched at Skinner's head as the older man licked and kissed his way across Mulder's chest and belly. He groaned when Skinner bypassed his rapidly hardening cock and kissed his way down Mulder's legs. Mulder tried to pull Skinner back up but the other man evaded his touch, continuing to work his way down to his lover's feet. By the time he worked his way back up, Mulder was nearly out of his mind with need and lust. He nearly screamed as Skinner's mouth took him in and was only kept from fucking the other man's mouth by a pair of firm hands holding his hips down. It didn't take long before he was shuddering with his own release and then he slumped back bonelessly on the drop cloth.

He was vaguely aware of Skinner stretching out beside him but roused himself enough to roll into his lover's arms, settling his head on the older man's chest with a satisfied sigh. Skinner chuckled slightly and he couldn't help smiling in return.

"What?"

"Well, we've christened your study now, so that only leaves how many rooms to go?"

"Too many," Mulder chuckled. "But I think we'd better wait till after the place is finished. Wouldn't want to shock the workmen." They lay in contented silence for a long time again. "Sorry about ruining your plans for the weekend."

Skinner shrugged. "I ruined them first. I really wasn't ready to play the Dom, and I didn't talk to you about what was bothering me. We'll do it another time."

Mulder smiled and kissed Skinner's chest, then said, "What we were talking about earlier - about me taking care of you. Were you serious?"

Skinner nodded. "Yes."

Mulder looked up at him, his eyes serious and his voice firm. "Then no one else does that to you except me. And if I have to go one-on-one with Mason over this, I will."

"Tough guy," Skinner said teasingly, then nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way." He turned his head and kissed Mulder's hair. "So how about a new plan for this weekend. We'll drag ourselves off this very uncomfortable floor, get dressed and go home, shower and get comfortable. Then we'll order something delivered for dinner and you can find one of the really appalling B movies on cable."

Mulder lifted his head, grinning down at Skinner. "Really? Because 'Plan 9' is on tonight and you _did_ say that you'd never seen it."

Skinner shuddered dramatically. "Okay, I'll watch it."

"Great!" Mulder said, bouncing up and starting to pull on his clothes. Then, magnanimously, he added, "We never did finish watching that Civil War series. We could watch it afterward - I'd like to see how it turned out." At Skinner's snort, he glared at Skinner and threw his shirt in Skinner's face. "Asshole. I meant the _series_ , not the war." Then he caught his breath as he got his first clear sight of Skinner's backside. " _Jesus_ , Walter!"

Startled, Skinner looked around at Mulder and saw what had caused that startled exclamation. "I'm fine, Mulder," he said reassuringly, taking his lover into his arms for a reassuring kiss. "It looks worse than it feels, although I wouldn't mind the chance to change into some loose sweats. And we never did finish our weekend plans. In the morning - "

"After boffing each other like bunnies all night - "

Skinner rolled his eyes. " - we'll go out for a really decadent brunch. And then we'll spend the afternoon looking for the stuff we're going to need for fixing this place up."

Mulder smiled and kissed him again. "Sounds like a plan." He led Skinner down the stairs, pausing next to the car to give his lover an impish look. "Earlier, when you said we'd share every aspect of our lives? Does that include your secret stash of Mallomars?"

"Touch them and die, Mulder."


	47. Peaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner finds out that Mulder knows a secret from his past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song quote is from "Laughing out Loud" by the Wallflowers.

  
You got me walkin' up a tightrope   
_With Vaseline from my head to my feet  
_ _You got me lookin' into blindfolds_   
_But I know you've got your hands all over me_ _…_   
_And I don't need an invitation_   
_The best peach is at the top of the tree_

 

 

It all started with a peach sitting right in the center of his desk when he entered his office on Monday morning.

Skinner set down his briefcase and took off his jacket, looking at the fruit curiously. It was perfectly ripe and smelled heavenly, the kind of peach that had ripened on the tree instead of picked green and refrigerated. He picked it up and walked to the door.

"Kim, do you know where this came from?"

His Administrative Assistant looked up and shook her head. "No, sir. I noticed it on your desk when I first went in this morning, but I didn't see anyone around the area." Concerned, she asked, "Is there a problem?"

"No," he said reassuringly. "I was just – curious."

Kim smiled, her eyes twinkling a little. "One of your agents trying to curry favor, sir? Like leaving an apple for the teacher?"

"I suppose," Skinner said, shrugging as he dismissed the subject. "Are those budget figures for next year ready?"

"On your desk, sir. And the Director has set up a meeting for 4:30 this afternoon."

Skinner nodded, swearing under his breath. A meeting starting that late meant that it would drag into the evening hours, and he'd been hoping to spend a quiet night with Mulder. The past weekend – once they got past his blunders on Saturday - had been hectic, running around looking for supplies for their new house. It had been worth it, though. They had come across a salvage warehouse that specialized in vintage architectural pieces and had purchased a number of items, including a staircase that would be a beautiful replacement for the two narrow ones originally in the house. Mulder had spent Sunday night at his own apartment but he was planning on coming over tonight, and Skinner had hoped that they could a pleasant evening looking over the brochures on windows and doors they had collected.

Not to mention cuddling on the couch, as well as more aggressive activities in bed.

He closed the door and settled at his desk, putting the peach to one side as he picked up the spreadsheet outlining the budget figures for the new year. However, his mind refused to concentrate on the numbers and, with a resigned sigh, he reached for the phone.

Mulder answered it on the second ring, sounded a little out of breath. "Mulder."

"It's me," Skinner said, not fighting the smile that automatically came to his face on hearing his lover's voice. "You okay?"

"Ran for the phone." He could hear Mulder settling into his chair, muttering as he looked over his cluttered desktop for something. "Are you checking up on me, sir? Making sure I'm putting in my hours?"

Skinner chuckled. "Since I'm no longer your supervisor, that isn't _my_ concern anymore. And my only problem with your hours is that you work too many of them."

"Said the pot."

"Speaking of which, the Director's scheduled the budget meeting for 4:30 – which means it'll probably run till 7, so I won't get home till 8. You want to reschedule tonight?"

"Not unless you want some space."

"I want you."

Skinner spoke without thinking for a moment about possible ears listening in and, as he heard the pleased tone in Mulder's voice, he was glad that he had.

"You've got me. Look, Kersh has thrown us some crap that'll take a couple of hours to sort out anyways, so I won't be leaving much before you. I'll stop and pick up some dinner on the way over."

"Sounds good," Skinner said. "I'll see you tonight."

He disconnected and turned back to his work, aware that he was smiling like an idiot, and not caring one bit.

* * *

 

Skinner opened the door to his apartment and was immediately assailed by the delicious smell of hot food. He hadn't had a chance to eat lunch and his stomach now protested loudly.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," he called out.

Mulder came out of the kitchen carrying a glass of tea. "Don't push it, Walter. June Cleaver, I'm not."

Skinner drained the glass, grateful that his lover had guessed that he'd need that after sitting in that insufferably long meeting. "Too bad," he said, handing the glass back. "I was looking forward to watching you vacuum in pearls and heels - and nothing else."

"Kinky," Mulder said, grinning as he slid into Skinner's arms and kissed him. "But what will the neighbors think, Ward? Not to mention the Beaver."

Skinner chuckled and wrapped his arms around Mulder, relishing the feel of the warm body pressed against his. He pressed his face against his lover's hair, just breathing in the unique scents that made up the man. "God, you smell so good."

"You must _really_ be hungry," Mulder laughed. "Go change into something comfortable while I set the table."

Skinner claimed one more kiss and then headed upstairs to shed his suit and put on some comfortable sweats. Coming back downstairs, he found Mulder putting a foil-covered pan into the oven.

"You didn't cook, did you?"

Mulder gave him an indignant look at the uncertain tone in Skinner's voice. "Relax, Walter – you're not in any danger of being poisoned. I stopped by a place that Scully recommended and picked up a couple things – it's supposed to be old-fashioned ‘home cooking'. That's some kind of fruit cobbler I got for dessert.”

Skinner wrapped his arms around Mulder and nipped the side of his neck. “I’d rather have _you_ for dessert.”

Mulder chuckled but said with mock severity. “Behave, and you can have me later.”

Skinner pretended to growl but released his lover. “All right, but I’m holding you to that promise.”

The food turned out to be just as good as promised, and Skinner had two helpings of the cobbler before Mulder dragged him upstairs. Not that he protested, and Mulder's fulfillment of his promise left Skinner exhausted and thoroughly sated.

As he drifted into a contented sleep, Skinner had a momentary thought that it was an odd coincidence that the cobbler had been peach…

* * *

 

Tuesday morning he found a jar of peach preserves on his desk, and not the ordinary grocery-store brand, either. This one came with a tag proudly proclaiming that it was homemade - "just like your granny's".

Just like the food from the restaurant last night.

And suddenly the coincidences of the peach on his desk, cobbler the previous night, and this jar of preserves began to look as if they were anything _but_ coincidences. In fact, if he hadn't known for certain that Mulder had left Skinner's apartment at the same time this morning, he would have bet everything that this was Mulder's doing. Surely there was no way that Mulder could have gotten here before Skinner this morning, much less found out about his Club nickname? But he just couldn't see anyone else who knew about his nickname resorting to these kind of pranks. Well, Sean of course, but the young sub couldn’t possibly have gotten access to his office.

Skinner didn't get a chance to pursue this line of investigation – Mulder called from his apartment mid-morning to tell him that he and Scully were heading to Georgia for a few days to investigate multiple reports of mysterious lights in the North Georgia mountains. They had only had a few minutes to talk before Mulder had to run for the airport, and Skinner had not wasted them talking about peaches.

Wednesday morning, he arrived at the office and found a vase of flowers sitting on his desk. He didn't recognize them, although the fact that they reminded him of the spring cherry blossoms gave him a good clue as to what they were. Kim confirmed his suspicions – they were peach blossoms. Which left him wondering how Mulder had come up with peach blossoms in late October. If it was Mulder behind this. Of course, he was unable to find out since he couldn't contact his errant lover – Mulder's cellular provider reported that the customer was out of range. Probably had lost the damn thing again, Skinner thought with irritation.

He took work home with that night, hoping to distract his mind from the missing presence of his lover, but found his mind wandering to thoughts of peaches. After two unfruitful hours, he gave up trying to make sense of the reports and went to bed.

Skinner went into the office early Thursday morning, planning to spend a little time working out in the gym instead of lying in bed and missing his lover. Which is when he found that the regular shampoo in his exercise bag had been replaced with something that smelled strongly of peaches.

Unfortunately, he didn't discover that until he had already poured the stuff into his hands, and several rinses still weren't enough to remove the cloying scent completely. He was sure that Kim gave him strange looks when she brought him coffee and was almost certain that she sniffed the air curiously before quickly leaving the room. Fortunately, none of his agents noticed anything unusual – except that their boss' attention was oddly distracted that day.

Thursday night, Skinner again unsuccessfully attempted to track down his lover on his home and cell-phones, leaving messages on each. The night passed without a return phone call.

On Friday morning, Skinner entered his office and was surprised to find his desk was empty. And he was even more surprised to realize that he was disappointed. Despite his irritation, he realized that he had been enjoying this little game, trying to figure out what was behind these bizarre gifts. If he had known that his phone calls were going to end Mulder's game, he would have kept his mouth shut and his hands off the phone. But it was too late now.

With a sigh, he settled down at the desk to tackle the usual pile of memos, reports, and agendas that made up his life. And he tried not to miss the scent of peaches.

 

* * *

 

Mid-day, Skinner looked up from the report that he was signing off on to see Kim enter his office carrying a box. “What’s that?” he asked absently.

“Special delivery, sir, from what appears to be a store in Atlanta, Georgia.”

Skinner’s head jerked up at that. Mulder's latest case had been in Georgia, and this seemed like too much of a coincidence. “Return address?”

“A place called ‘A Peach of a Store’.”

Skinner found himself grinning. “I have a feeling that I should be worried.” He set the box on his desk and, after Kim left, opened it, then burst out laughing. Inside was an assortment of peach-themed products – soaps, refrigerator magnets, little clips with peaches on them, pot-holders, a horrendous tie adorned with peaches, and a pair of boxers with the words "I have a Peach of a Lover".

Well. That certainly left little doubt about who had sent all these gifts – and also confirmed that Mulder had somehow found out about his training name. Since only three other people knew that name, it was obvious that one of them had spilled the beans. He couldn't see either Mason or Jean-Pierre revealing it except under torture, so that left only one other candidate. Sean.

And he intended to find out just what games that little imp was up to with Mulder. Right now.

Skinner packed up the box, grabbed his coat and briefcase. Walking into the outer office, he called out, "Kim, I'm leaving for the day. Would you reschedule my appointments?"

She stared at him in shock – Skinner rarely took time off from work. "Certainly, sir. Um – have a good afternoon, sir."

"Thank you, Kim. I intend to do just that."

 

* * *

 

“Sean.”

Sean was lying on the couch in the library, reading, and he looked up at the stern-faced Dom bearing down on him. “Uh-oh.”

Skinner stopped in front of him and crossed his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know why Mulder suddenly seems obsessed with sending me peach-themed items, would you?"

“Um…”

“That’s what I thought.” He hauled Sean up off the couch. “Come on – we’re going to talk to Geoffrey.”

Sean tried to dig in his feet but Skinner continued to hustle him down the hallway towards the Secretary’s office. “Wait! I didn't mean to do it! And Geoff already knows!”

“Good. That’ll make this easier.” He wasn't angry with the sub, but he knew how carried away Sean could get with his little pranks and thought it was high time Mason curbed the younger man.

Mason looked up as the two entered the room, Sean still protesting loudly, and sighed. “You know, if you two children can’t play nice, I’m going to have to separate you. Sit.” Skinner released Sean’s arm and sat down, while Sean flopped into a chair. “Now, what’s this about, Walter?”

“For the past week, I’ve had peaches - in one form or another - appear in my office and home. Anonymous, although I suspect Mulder is behind them. However, I'm also positive that Mulder doesn't know my training name. Or at least he _didn't_."

Mason turned his head and looked at Sean. “Did you tell Walter?”

“No,” Sean said sulkily. “He didn’t give me a chance, just started dragging me all over the place.”

“Sean.”

“All right, all right.” He took a deep breath. “The other day – when I was in that bad mood – I accidentally told Mulder.”

“Accidentally?”

Sean looked up at Skinner earnestly. “I swear, I didn’t mean to tell him. I was upset and jealous and I said – “ He stopped and looked down at his hands. “I said that it was my fault that Mason couldn’t be doing what he wanted with his 'Peaches'. Mulder guessed who I meant.”

Skinner was startled by Sean’s words, and he immediately forgot his irritation. “Sean,” he said gently. “You don’t have any reason to be jealous. I have no intentions of interfering between you and Geoffrey. I love Fox Mulder, and I certainly wouldn't cheat on him, even with Geoff.”

“I know,” Sean said lowly. "It was stupid of me, and even stupider to rip at Mulder when it wasn't his fault." He looked up at Skinner through his eyelashes, turning on the pathetic waif look as he did so. He didn't think that Skinner was seriously angry with him, but it never hurt to use all your weapons to defuse a Dom's wrath. "I'm sorry, Walter. Can you ever forgive me?"

Mason snorted. "Cut out the dramatics, brat. I've told you that your temper would get you in trouble one day and it has, so just take your lumps." Looking at Skinner, he said, "I've already punished Sean for his behavior, but you are certainly welcome to spank him for the trouble he's caused you."

"Geoff!" Sean said indignantly.

Skinner laughed and tousled Sean's hair. "Thanks, Geoff, but I'd rather have 'slave labor' for a couple hours, if you don't mind. I've got a little retribution of my own to arrange."

Sean perked up at that, grinning at Skinner. "Sounds like fun. And I've got some ideas, too. When do we start?"

Mason burst out laughing at that. "Poor Mulder!"

Skinner stood up. "Then I can borrow Sean for a while?"

"Go on, get out of here, both of you." And, as the door closed behind them, he shook his head and said, "And may God have mercy on Mulder's soul."

 

* * *

 

Sean followed Skinner down to his car and accepted the box thrust into his hands. "What's in here?"

"Mulder's idea of a joke. You'll see when we get upstairs."

Skinner pulled out his travel bag and led the way up to his suite. Sean restrained his curiosity until they were inside, then dumped out the contents of the box on the bed and burst out laughing. Skinner couldn't help smiling as well, and he opened his bag to add the shampoo to the collection.

"Well, Mulder certainly doesn't do anything by halves, does he?" Sean said admiringly. "For an impromptu prank, this is pretty damn good." He picked up the peach-decorated paper clamps and grinned. "And I can think of a couple good uses for these babies." He clipped one onto the skin between his thumb and forefinger and purred, "Oh, _yeah_. They have a nice little bite."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're twisted, Sean?" Skinner asked, pulling the jar of preserves out of the heap and setting it on the table.

"All the time, Walter – all the time." He removed the clip and dropped it back on the bed, foraging among the other goodies. He pulled out the tie and the shoelaces festooned with peaches on their ends. "Oooh! Bondage toys!"

"I knew that I picked the right mind for this job," Skinner said in amusement, sitting down in a chair and crossing his arms. "So – what do you think?"

Sean pursed his lips and shook his head. "Good start, but not quite enough here to carry out the theme. However…" He looked around the room. "A little redecorating would help – I can have Housekeeping send up the right color sheets, and you can cut up one of them to decorate the Cross and use for binding."

Skinner nodded. "Enough to make the punishment fit the crime."

The sub cocked his head. "And what exactly do you plan to do to punish him? Have you thought about why he did this?"

He shrugged. "For amusement, and to get back at me for his own training name. He wants to get caught, of course, or he would have been much more subtle." He caught the slight frown on Sean's face. "What? You think I'm missing something?"

"Walter, I heard about the whole Bermuda Triangle thing, and that you threatened to kick his ass. Did you ever follow up on that?"

Skinner sighed. "No - and yes, Geoff told me that I needed to, but first Mulder was recovering from drowning and then there was the mess I made of things last weekend, and this week we've both been too busy…"

"And you don't know exactly how to go about doing it," Sean said shrewdly.

"Yes," Skinner said with a sigh. "It's not like with you and Geoff – you're in a 24/7 relationship and you have set up rules and consequences. Outside the Club, Mulder and I don't have the kind of relationship where I feel like I can 'punish' him for acting foolishly. And inside the Club, I don't think it's fair to punish him for things that happen outside these walls."

"But you do," Sean said quietly. At Skinner's puzzled look, he added, "You punish him by being unable to give both of you the closure you need."

"I'm not going to start disciplining him here for his actions out there. That's not how our relationship works."

"But he's bringing it here," Sean pointed out. "He is deliberately teasing you about your training name, thumbing his nose at his Dom to see what reaction he gets. He _wants_ you to take him down, and he has chosen the playing field. You just have to decide how you want to play." He frowned as he saw the uncertain look on Skinner's face. "What's up, Walter? I've never seen you so uncertain."

"I've screwed up twice, Sean. First in not listening to Mulder when he needed deeper play, then in not telling him about my own needs. My instincts seem to be shot to hell."

Sean snorted and crossed to Skinner. "There's nothing wrong with your instincts, Walter. You've got some of the best in the business. You've just got to stop listening to this," and he tapped Skinner's head, "and start listening to your guts."

Skinner drew in a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, my guts tell me that you're right. Mulder needs closure about that whole business and he wants me to punish him somehow."

"Knowing Mulder, he has something specific in mind. When was the last time you turned him over your knee?"

Skinner blinked. "If you're talking about a punishment spanking, my 'gut' tells me that's not what he's looking for. At least, not like you or I get from Geoff."

"No, but he _is_ curious about what it's like, and I think he'd like a little touch of it, within the context of a Scene," Sean said frankly, curling up in a chair across from Skinner. "You've got to remember, Walter. This may be old hat to you and me, but it's all new territory to Mulder – both enticing and scary at the same time – and he doesn't know how to ask for what he wants. Although he obviously loves the D/s play that you two do, I expect he'd like to dabble at a Master/slave or Daddy/boy scenario."

Skinner considered that and nodded slowly. "I think you're right, Sean. And you've given me a couple of ideas."

Sean grinned and bounced up out of his seat. "All right, then! Let's get moving – we've got a lot to do before Mulder gets here."

 

* * *

 

Mulder entered the Club feeling incredibly cheerful. Although the past case had not turned up anything substantial in the way of UFOs, he hadn't been shot, stabbed, beaten, kidnapped or even threatened with bodily harm. The local law enforcement had been cooperative – not surprising since the local sheriff had been one of the witnesses to the strange lights. And, to top it all off, he hadn't wrecked a car or lost his gun or phone. Of course, he had forgotten to charge his cell phone and it had been dead for the past two days, but hell, he wasn't perfect.

Then, to top off a good week, there had been a message on his voice mail from Skinner, telling him to meet the Dom at the Club for the weekend. He couldn't help grinning as he thought about spending the weekend as his lover's devoted sub and – if he was lucky – being tormented and fucked within an inch of his life. Things couldn't be better in his little corner of the world.

He caught sight of Sean across the lobby and called out the younger man's name. Sean swung around and grinned as he saw Mulder.

"Hello, mate. You're looking mighty chipper this evening."

Mulder grinned. "And why wouldn't I be? It seems like _forever_ since we last played, and I'm looking forward to this weekend after last weekend's fiasco."

Sean's face sobered. "Mulder, about last weekend – I'm sorry. I had no excuse for ripping at you like that, and I hope you can forgive me."

"Of course," Mulder said readily. "You were having a pretty rough time yourself. I hope that Mason wasn't too hard on you."

Sean gave him a rueful smile. "Couldn't sit down for two days." He saw the little flare of interest in Mulder's eyes at that and smugly congratulated himself for reading that sub right. "And let that be a warning to _you_ , mate. Never mouth off to your Dom if your butt's not prepared to take the heat."

Mulder grinned. "I'll remember that – not that I'm likely to need that particular warning." He promised to meet up with the sub sometime over the weekend, then headed up to the suite and opened the door. And then he stood staring in shock.

Skinner's suite seemed to have undergone a strange transformation since the last time he'd seen it. The bed had been stripped and remade with sheets in an odd pinkish-orange shade, and cloth strips of the same material were attached to the rings in both the head and footboards. The St. Andrew's Cross has been uncovered and was draped with the same material, almost hiding the chains dangling from the upper beams. On the table, an assortment of items were laid out and partially covered with a cloth, but Mulder could detect at least a few plugs, dildos, and floggers. And sitting on the dining table was one lone peach.

"Oh, shit," he muttered.

"Nicely put," came a familiar voice from the bathroom doorway.

He turned and looked at the Dom, and then swallowed hard. Skinner was dressed to the hilt tonight – tight, black leather pants that left nothing to the imagination, black silk shirt open to the waist, black leather boots laced up to his knees. Mulder felt his cock instantly harden. It had been a long four days since he had last seen his lover, and his body was making its desires immediately known.

Mulder dropped to his knees. "Sir!"

Skinner slowly came forward, and Mulder's mouth went dry as he watched that predatory prowl. As the Dom stopped in front of him, Mulder automatically bent over and kissed his boots.

"Well, I'm glad to see that you have _some_ idea of respect for your Dom."

Mulder groaned and pressed his forehead against the boots. "You're pissed about the peach thing."

"Pissed? No, Fox, I'm not pissed." Skinner crouched and lifted Mulder's head up. "I'm impressed with your ingenuity and amused by your audacity."

Mulder smiled in relief.

"However – "

Mulder's smile vanished.

"You _were_ impertinent, and impertinent subs must be put in their place."

Mulder glanced over at the table nervously. "What did you have in mind, Sir?"

Skinner leaned forward and murmured in Mulder's ear, "Humiliations galore." Mulder groaned and dropped his forehead against Skinner's shoulder, and the Dom chuckled softly. "Now, I want you to go into the bathroom and get ready, then come back in here and let me finish preparing you."

Mulder recognized the amused tone in Skinner's voice and sighed, pushing himself to his feet. "I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

Skinner chuckled again as he straightened. "You may not _like_ it, Kitten, but you're going to have a hell of a good time."

"By my definition – or yours?"

Seeing that Skinner refused to answer that, Mulder sighed and went into the bathroom. He went through all his usual preparations, telling himself that he was being thorough and not dragging it out as long as possible. Finally, when he was thoroughly clean inside and out, he opened the door and went back into the main room.

Skinner was busy in the cabinet again, so Mulder fetched the cuffs and collar from his bag and settled down in his usual place, waiting for the Dom to turn his attention to his sub. He knew that Skinner had heard him come into the room and that the Dom was ignoring him on purpose, and he eyed the other man with trepidation. Maybe Skinner was more upset than he had thought.

“Someone’s been a naughty boy,” Skinner said, still not turning to look at him. “Hasn’t he?”

“Yes, Sir,” Mulder said uneasily. “Um – what are you going to do to me?”

Skinner turned and looked at him finally, and although his face was stern, Mulder was relieved to see a twinkle in his eyes. “I suppose I’ll have to punish you, boy.”

Mulder couldn't help the shiver that ran down his back. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

"Good response." Skinner stood before him and gestured for him to kneel up, and Mulder rose on his knees so that the Dom could fasten his collar around his neck. He ruffled Mulder's hair again, then tugged at it slightly. "Up, boy."

Mulder stood up, watching as Skinner walked over to the table and took something off of it, then nearly groaned as he saw it was that horrible necktie he had picked for the gift box. Skinner smiled at the look on Mulder's face.

"Since you were so _thoughtful_ as to pick out these things for me, I thought you'd appreciate them being used on you this weekend. Hands behind your back, Kitten." He used the tie to bind Mulder's wrists together and the shoelaces to bind Mulder's cock and balls, then stepped back to survey the effect. "Very good – and a perfect use for those things. Bend over, boy."

Mulder obediently bent over, spreading his feet for balance. Skinner thrust a finger into his ass, checking that he was properly lubricated, then inserting one of the plugs. Mulder drew a deep breath, wriggling slightly to adjust to the intruder, and Skinner popped him lightly.

"Stand still, boy."

Mulder suppressed a groan as Skinner circled him, looking him over, and gave his Dom a sour look. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Skinner chuckled. "Immensely." He picked up the peach-decorated boxers from the table and held them open for Mulder to step into them. "Put these on."

Mulder gave Skinner a puzzled look – the Dom liked him to be naked in the suite, and surely these boxers weren't enough for Mulder to wear in public – but he obeyed.

Skinner sat down on the bed and crooked his finger for Mulder to come over to stand between his knees. The younger man obeyed, standing still as the Dom ran his hands over Mulder's body, caressing and teasing him.

"As I said earlier, someone's been a naughty boy, teasing his Dom unmercifully, and I think that he should be punished – just like all naughty boys are punished."

Mulder caught his breath even as his bound cock leapt. Did Skinner mean what he thought that he meant? Although Skinner had given him several erotic spankings since they had adjusted their relationship, he had never put him through a punishment scenario, and Mulder had been too embarrassed to tell him how hot he got thinking about that kind of scene. In the back of his mind, he still heard Krycek's sneering comments a year ago about Mulder looking for a "Daddy" in Skinner, and despite both Sean and Skinner's reassurances, he still worried that there was something wrong about wanting to try this.

Skinner's words interrupted his jumbled thoughts. "And not only that, but you've been a bad boy outside of here. Worrying me and your partner half to death with your stunts."

Mulder's head snapped up at that. "But – I thought – you said we wouldn't bring outside stuff here!"

"And who is it that's been teasing me – outside of the Club – about my training name?" Skinner reminded him. Mulder was silent, chewing his lip. Softly, Skinner said, "You have safe words, Fox. Do you want to call one now?" Mulder shook his head slowly. "Then over my knees, boy."

Mulder flushed and hesitantly moved into place. He felt Skinner's large, capable hands settle him more comfortably, making sure that his cock was safely placed before running soothingly over his thinly clothed bottom. Mulder swallowed hard, wondering just what Skinner had in mind. He didn't have long to wait and wonder.

Skinner raised his hand and brought it down on Mulder's ass, a firm swat that made Mulder first gasp with surprise and then groan in pleasure. It was followed by more swats, each of them evenly paced and firm, covering his backside completely and jarring the plug inside. Unlike the previous erotic spankings, Skinner didn't pause to caress his skin in between blows, and the build-up was both painful and oddly pleasurable. Mulder moaned under the onslaught, feeling his whole body tightening with each blow, but it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

Fingers pulled at the top of the boxers and he caught his breath again. "Naughty boys should be spanked on the bare, don't you think?" asked a voice, but he was too deeply into the pain/pleasure to reply. He groaned as he felt the boxers being pulled down to his knees, felt the rush of cool air on his warm flesh, and then the whole thing began again. Mulder knew that he was wriggling under the swats but whether to get more or to get away he couldn't have said. He was gasping and sobbing, feeling his whole body thrumming with need. His body craved release, needed it more than he needed to breathe. And then he felt a blossoming heat begin in his stomach, moving up his spine and exploding through his body with a bliss that was almost painful in its intensity.

When he came back to himself, he found that he was still over Skinner's knees, one of those big, comforting hands rubbing soothingly over his back. He drew a shuddering breath, then another.

"Wow," he murmured.

There was a soft chuckle above him, and then hands were pushing him up. Reluctantly, he obeyed the pressure and found himself standing upright, a little unsteadily, on his feet. A quick glance downward confirmed that he had not climaxed – well, not externally, at any rate – but he felt a heady euphoria throughout his body. And there was a kind of lightness inside as well, as if some burden that had been troubling him had been lifted off his shoulders.

"All right, boy. I think a little corner time is called for now." Mulder looked down at the boxers, now hanging between his knees. "Leave them down. There's nothing I like more than the sight of a bad boy's red bottom."

Mulder flushed and shuffled over to the corner, leaning his head against the wall with a groan. His Dom was enjoying this whole thing _way_ too much, he thought with amused irritation – which boded well for repeat performances of this scenario. It also made Mulder worry about what Skinner still had planned for this night.

He could hear the Dom prowling around the room, turning off lights in one area, straightening something in another area, on the phone ordering dinner for an hour from now. He was acutely aware that one of the lights that had been left on was shining directly on him, like a spotlight. The thought of what he must look like, bound and blistered with the boxers pooled around his ankles, made him flush with embarrassed arousal. He groaned again, wondering just how sick a person he was for enjoying that spanking, getting off on it like he had.

At the sound of that groan, Skinner looked over at Mulder. The younger man was standing quietly in the corner, his whole body flushed from arousal or embarrassment or both, his ass glowing from the attention it had received. Something about that groan, though, made him feel that Mulder had started _thinking_ , and he knew he had to stop that right away. And he knew just the thing to take Mulder's mind off the scene they had just played.

"All right, boy, come over here."

Mulder turned his head and saw that Skinner was standing by the bed. Awkwardly, the shuffled over to stand in front of the Dom, his eyes lowered as he automatically began worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

"Stop that." Skinner grasped his chin and rubbed his lip with a finger. "You're damaging my property."

"Sorry, Sir," Mulder muttered, unable to meet the eyes studying him so intently.

Skinner gave him a hard, possessive kiss and then turned him around so that he could unfasten the tie binding his hands together. "On your back on the bed, boy."

Mulder hurried to obey, wincing slightly as the movement jarred the plug inside him.

Skinner tied Mulder's hands to the headboard with the peach-colored fabric he had secured there, then tied down his feet. He ran his hands down Mulder's body, assessing the tension he felt there, and decided that – whatever Mulder's worries were – the younger man wasn't distressed and was ready to play.

Mulder watched Skinner pick up something from the nightstand and groaned. Skinner smiled and held up the jar of peach preserves.

"I'm feeling a little hungry and, since dinner won't be ready for a little while, I think I'll have a little snack." He twisted off the lid and set it aside. "And – thanks to your generosity – I have the perfect thing right here."

He scooped some of the preserves out with his finger and coated both of Mulder's nipples. Setting the jar aside, he straddled the sub's body and began licking the sweet stuff off.

"Mmm, the label was right. Just like my Granny used to make." He added another coating and sucked the whole nipple into his mouth.

Mulder gasped. "Somehow – I don't think – she'd approve of – your usage."

Skinner chuckled and leaned up to kiss Mulder, sharing the treat with the younger man as he thoroughly ravished his mouth. "Like it?" he asked, drawing back from a breathless and thoroughly aroused Mulder.

"What's not to like?" Mulder panted, then groaned as Skinner took the other nipple in his mouth and began worrying it with his teeth. "Oh, God!"

Skinner chuckled and released the nipples with a final lick. "I wonder how good this will taste elsewhere." He saw Mulder's cock leap within its restraints at that and smiled. "But first, I'd hate for these sweet nipples to get lonely, so – " He reached over to the nightstand and picked up two of the paper clamps. "So nice of you to provide me with new toys, Kitten."

Mulder groaned as he caught sight of the clips and winced as they were attached to his aroused nipples. "God, you're a sadistic bastard."

"Why, thank you, boy. I try my best." He turned his attention to Mulder's cock, removing the bindings. It leapt to full arousal in his hand and he grinned. "And I see that you're enjoying my efforts."

He scooped out more of the preserves and spread them over Mulder's genitals, liberally coating the skin, cock and balls. Then, with slow deliberation, he began licking off the sweet stuff, alternating long, slow licks with short, quick ones.

Mulder groaned and panted under the attention his body was receiving, using every trick he could think of to keep from coming. He had a feeling that the Dom was enjoying the slow torture he was inflicting on his sub and that it would be a long, long time before he was allowed to come.

Skinner relished the gasps and moans and pleas coming non-stop from his sub. Mulder was so beautiful like this, writhing under his touch, his whole body taut and flushed with arousal. The sight of him went straight to Skinner's cock, making his pants uncomfortably tight. It was time that he finished this and concentrated on his own pleasure.

Mulder gasped as the Dom's hot and skillful mouth suddenly took him in deeply, and he gave up all semblance of control. With a near-deafening scream, his body arching at the intensity of his climax, he came down Skinner's throat and collapsed weakly on the bed.

He was barely aware of his ankles being untied and his knees pressed against his chest. Vaguely, he registered that the plug inside him had been pulled out and tossed aside, and that his body was being filled with something larger and warmer. But the feel of supple leather against his sensitized backside caught his attention completely. He moaned as leather-encased thighs slapped against his skin and shuddered at the delicious thought of Skinner, still fully dressed, fucking him through the mattress.

His eyes snapped open and he looked towards the ceiling, grinning as he saw that Skinner had finally given in to his sub's begging and had mirrors installed above the bed. Mulder had often thought that it would be incredibly erotic to watch himself being fucked by his Dom and lover, and now he discovered that it was even hotter than he had imagined. He saw himself, spread wide open on the bed, his hands tied above his head. Between his legs knelt Skinner, his hands on Mulder's hips and Mulder's legs over his shoulders as he pistoned into the willing body beneath him. He groaned at the sight, feeling his body respond to the erotic image.

Mulder saw Skinner throw back his head, saw the Dom's eyes open. Their eyes met in the mirror and a half-smile turned up the older man's mouth. He stopped his thrusting, moving his hands up from Mulder's hips to his knees, and pushed Mulder's legs forward before resuming his purposeful rutting. Mulder caught his breath as he realized that in this position he could watch Skinner fucking his ass. The sight of that thick cock driving in and out of his body was the most incredible thing he had ever seen; he threw back his head and howled as once again his climax wracked his body. Dimly, he was aware that the Dom was coming deep inside him, and then he fell into the dark.

* * *

 

When he was next aware of the world around him, he found that Skinner had untied his hands and removed the clamps, and that he was stretched out on the bed alongside Skinner. The Dom was still fully dressed and had evidently cleaned them both up before settling down to await Mulder. The younger man stretched languidly, pleasantly aware of the aches of his body, and turned his head up to see Skinner smiling at him.

"Hello. How are you feeling?"

Mulder grinned. "Great. And Jesus – seeing us like that was incredible."

"It was, wasn't it?" Skinner sat up and tapped Mulder's leg. "Roll over on your stomach and let me take care of your backside."

Mulder obediently rolled over, cushioning his head on his arms, and sighed blissfully as he felt a soothing coolness spreading across his ass. Then he sniffed the air and grinned. "The peach hand lotion I sent you? You really are getting a kick out of that joke, aren't you?"

Skinner laughed. "Of course. And so are you, so don't try to tell me otherwise." He heard Mulder's soft snicker and let his hands move in soothing circles over the reddened skin. "You want to tell me about what upset you when you were standing in the corner?"

Mulder gave him a startled look over his shoulder. "Damn, you're good! How did you know?"

"It's my _job_ to know." He applied more lotion and gently stroked it in. "So what was it? Didn't like that little Scene?"

"Just the opposite – I liked it _too_ much." Mulder flushed and buried his face in his arms again. "You saw that, didn't you?"

"That was the whole point, Fox. If you _hadn't_ gotten off on it, I would have been worried."

"I don't think Sean gets off on that, and you said that you didn't, either," Mulder's muffled voice replied.

Skinner smiled and let his hands move up Mulder's back to massage suddenly tense shoulders. "Are you under the mistaken impression that this was a _punishment_ spanking?" He could feel Mulder go still under his hands. "Was this anything like the whipping I gave you after that stunt you pulled with breath play?"

"No," Mulder said, lifting his head slightly. "That hurt like hell, and I sure didn't get off on it."

"This was a Scene, Fox, and that spanking was _nothing_ like the kind of spanking Sean gets from Geoff when he's in trouble. Trust me - _no one_ gets off from one of Mason's punishment spankings."

Tentatively, Mulder said, "This wasn't like what you've done to me before."

"Different kind of Scene," Skinner said, pushing gently at Mulder's shoulder so that he rolled over on his back. "How did you feel it was different?"

Mulder considered this for a moment. "The whole over-the-knee spanking thing, for one. You've always done me on the bed or over the bench – this was sort of embarrassing, which was part of the turn on. And secondly, this hurt more. It's always left just a tingle before, but this time I'm still feeling sore. It's a good kinda sore, though."

"Good."

"And I feel – lighter in a way. Like something heavy's been lifted off of me. Is that how you feel when Mason does what he did last weekend?" Mulder asked and Skinner nodded. "Oh. Well, then I can understand why you need it then."

"So you'd like to try this again?"

"It was interesting and hot as hell to do, and I wouldn't mind doing it again," Mulder said with a hesitant look up at Skinner. "Only, not all the time. And – and I'm really not looking for a Daddy."

Skinner smiled and leaned down to kiss Mulder gently. "It's okay, Fox. I've told you that I'm here to give you whatever you need. Whatever kind of game you want to play, even if you just want to experiment with something new. And we don't need to do it again if you don't like something we do. I'm willing to be flexible."

Mulder wrapped his arms around Skinner, pulling him down on top of him. "Thanks. And does this mean we're square on the butt-kicking thing?"

Skinner growled and nipped at Mulder's neck. "Oh, we're not square by a long shot, boy. We've still got the rest of the weekend, and I have a box of new toys and old favorites to play with. So let's eat dinner – you're going to need all your strength."

Mulder groaned. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Skinner chuckled and dragged Mulder off the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Mulder finished his final lap around the track and began his cool-down walk, feeling better than he had in weeks. His body ached deliciously all over, he felt so tired that he was ready to drop, but his soul felt lighter than he could ever remember it being. In fact, despite the aches and his fatigue, he felt more energized and ready to take on the world than he had in a long time.

He wasn't surprised when a slight figure fell into step beside him and accepted the towel that Sean handed him with thanks.

"Looking good, Mulder," the sub said with a grin. "And I love the fashionable new colors you're wearing."

Mulder flipped him a bird. "I have no idea where Walter came up with peach-colored running shorts on such short notice – do you?" He snorted at Sean's look of angelic innocence. "I thought so. Thanks a bunch, pal."

"Don't mention it," Sean said cheerfully.

"So, you actually working out or just slumming it?"

Sean shrugged. "Geoff's coaching Dana through her first Dom session, so I'm staying out of the way and behaving myself." At Mulder's sharp look he protested, "Well I am! I can be good – on occasion."

Mulder snorted. "Right." Then, seriously, he said, "Are you okay with that?"

Sean nodded. "I got my head straightened out after last weekend, and I know that Geoff loves me the most, even if he has to spend time elsewhere. Besides," he said with a sideways grin, "Geoff made sure to give me an extra-special session last night, so I'm feeling pretty good right now myself."

"I'm glad."

"And speaking of extra-special – how you'd like your surprise?"

Mulder laughed. "Well, I won't be taking off my clothes in public anytime soon, but yeah, I had a great time."

"And you're okay with everything?" Sean asked, his eyes seriously studying Mulder's face.

"Yeah," Mulder said with a grin. "Everything's peachy."


	48. Wildest Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An investigation into government secrets leads to unexpected developments, ones that may change Mulder's life forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is based on the two-part "Dreamland" show, and some elements in the story have been altered to better fit in with my series. It's not necessary to have seen the episode to enjoy the story, however, since I am not covering the show's events in detail – just pulling out sections of it – it might make more sense if you've seen the episodes. 
> 
> Chapter quote is from "Your Wildest Dreams" by the Moody Blues.

  
_"I wonder where you are_ _  
I wonder if you think about me_ _  
Once upon a time  
_ _In your wildest dreams"_

 

**Wednesday**

Mulder stared at a reflection in the mirror that he didn't recognize.

Despite the fact that several hours had passed since this nightmare began, since he had somehow changed bodies with one Morris Fletcher – who was apparently an MIB - he still couldn't get used to the fact that his mind, his spirit, his essence was somehow inside of the body of a stranger. Or the fact that no one around him seemed to notice the difference.

Hastily, he finished dressing and escaped from the asylum that passed for Morris Fletcher's loving family, muttering thanks under his breath that he and Walter would never have children. And then it suddenly hit him.

If he was _here_ with Fletcher's family, then Fletcher was back in D.C. with Scully. _With Walter Skinner._ And his lover would have absolutely no idea that the man who looked like his lover was an imposter.

A wave of jealousy surged over him, immediately followed by one of horror, and he had to pull off the side of the road to control the sudden shaking of his hands. Images filled his mind of Skinner coming on to the man he thought was his lover, a man who would no doubt violently repulse Skinner's advances – right before going to OPR to charge the A.D. with sexual harassment.

He had to get hold of Skinner. Looking at his watch, he frantically calculated the time difference and tried to visualize Skinner's schedule, to determine where he would be right now. Muttering about his lack of a cell phone, he pulled into a gas station, bought some sunflower seeds and got change for the pay phone, then dialed and nervously waited for the other man to pick up his private line.

No answer, just a transfer to Skinner's voice mail, and there was no way he could leave a message about this situation.

He hung up and swore under his breath, then called Kim to see if he could determine the A.D.'s location. Kim was less than forthcoming with the information, coolly informing the stranger on the phone that A.D. Skinner was in meetings with the Director that were expected to last for two days. She sighed when he asked if she had seen Agent Mulder around the office morning, no doubt believing that he was calling to complain about the agent, and told him to speak with A.D. Kersh instead.

Mulder hung up again, bit his lip, and called Scully. He was relieved to hear her cool voice on the line and couldn't help smiling.

"Scully, thank God!" he said. "I need your help – desperately."

"Who is this?" she asked suspiciously.

"It's Mulder!"

There was a long pause. “Look, I don’t know who you are or how you got this number, but Agent Mulder is sitting right here in this office across from me – and you sound nothing like him.”

“Scully – “

The buzz of a disconnected line in his ear stunned Mulder. He had never seriously considered that Scully wouldn’t listen to him, and he had no idea what to do now. Fletcher's friend, Jeff, had said that something "big" was going on at the base so his only option seemed to be to find out just what had happened and how to reverse this situation, get back into his own body. He climbed back in his car and drove towards the base, not noticing the wind that began to blow behind him, and a strange light that filled the sky around the gas station behind him.

* * *

 

Scully glared at the man she believed to be Mulder, standing with his finger on the disconnect button of her phone. "Why did you do that? We could have traced that call, gotten more information on this informant of yours."

Fletcher, pretending to be Mulder, gave her a smug look. "That wasn't my informant. I think we'd better tell Kersh about this."

Her mouth dropped open. "Tell _Kersh_? Then you were _serious_ earlier, when you said all that stuff about not going behind his back?"

"Of course I was serious, and you'd better be too, little lady, if you want to keep your job."

Scully fell back in her seat, stunned, and watched "Mulder" walk out of the office. Something strange was going on around here.

* * *

 

It had been a long, bizarre day, and Scully found herself walking slowly down the hallway of Mulder's apartment building, reluctant in the first time that she could remember to confront her partner. He was acting strangely, even for Mulder, and she had the idle thought that maybe she should have his water tested again.

Her thoughts were disrupted as Mulder's door opened and Kersh's assistant came out, giggling and looking like she had been making out with someone. Scully stopped dead in her tracks and stared, too astonished to say anything as the other woman passed her in the hallway and winked as her. Scully looked past the woman to Mulder standing in his doorway, also looking rumpled, and felt suddenly furious.

"What in the hell are you doing?" she demanded, gesturing towards Kersh's assistant who wiggled her fingers in farewell before the elevator doors closed on her.

Mulder smirked at her, and her jaw nearly hit the floor again. Mulder _never_ smirked. "Why? Did you need me for something?"

She could have sworn that he leered at her. "I traced that call I received this morning. It came from a phone booth near Groom Lake, and I think that it could be your informant."

"Nah," he said, shrugging. "I'm sure it was just some crackpot."

"You don't think we should follow up on this?" she asked, surprised.

"Are you out of your pretty little mind? Kersh would have our asses."

Scully gave him an incredulous look. "Am I out of _my_ mind? Mulder, _you_ are out of _your_ mind! What is up with you? I'm thinking about having you examined for mental illness or ... or drug use or ... or maybe a massive head injury!" She held up a file. "This is an X-file! Your life's work. Your crusade!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I should think about getting a life – a real one." He smirked at her. "Like that pretty little thing that just left."

"And what the _hell's_ up with that?" Scully demanded. "I can't believe you did that – what would Walter think if he found out?"

Mulder frowned as if trying to place that name and shrugged. "Hey, if the Boss Man doesn't know about it, he can't say anything, right? Or are you just jealous?"

"Jealous?" Scully sputtered. "Not on your life, Mulder! I just hope you come to your senses and stop ruining everything you've worked so hard for!" She stormed out of his apartment, slamming the door behind her, and fumed all the way down to her car. Then she sat there for a long time, trying to decide what to do. Her first instinct – to go to Skinner and tell him that Mulder was behaving bizarrely – she reluctantly dismissed. If Mulder was acting this way because he was drugged, then there was a good possibility that they _wanted_ the two men to break up, and she wasn't gong to play into their hands.

On the other hand, something was seriously wrong with her partner, and she planned to get to the bottom of this – one way or another. And it looked like the answer to the problem was back in Nevada. She started her car and headed towards the airport.

* * *

**Thursday**

 

Mulder decided that his life – or rather, his life as Morris Fletcher – couldn't possibly get worse. A second night spent in the recliner rather than sleeping in the same bed as Fletcher's wife had not done anything for his back or his libido; he missed both his lover and Skinner's large bed equally at this point. On top of that, he had had a bizarre dream where he was chasing after Scully, trying to convince her that he was himself, and he had apparently muttered her name in his sleep – which had thrilled Fletcher's wife no end. Having possibly convinced her that "Scully" wasn't a woman's name, he was thrown for a loop when Scully showed up at the door.

So was Joanne Fletcher. And now she was throwing her "husband" – and his belongings – out on the front steps. Mulder ignored her, figuring his best hope at this point was to get Fletcher and himself back where they belonged, but to do that he needed Scully's help. And Scully was looking at him with her usual skepticism.

Mulder sighed. "Of course you don't believe me. Why was I expecting anything different? Look, your name is Dana Katherine Scully, your mother's name is Margaret. Your brother is William – and he hates me." Scully just regarded him expressionlessly and he tried again. "Lately for lunch you've been having this little cup of plain yogurt into which you stir some bee pollen, because you're on some kind of bee pollen kick, even though I tell you that you're a scientist and should know better."

Scully shook her head. "Any of that information could have been gathered by anyone."

Mulder wanted to swear, wanted to pull out his hair and scream. "Even that yogurt thing? That is _so_ you! This is _so_ Scully!" He turned away from her, exasperated. "Well, it's good to know that _you_ haven't changed. It's comforting somehow." He swung back to her. "If I get you scientific proof of what happened, will that convince you?"

Scully just shook her head again, walking away, and Mulder called after her, "I'll prove it to you, Scully! I'll get you that proof tonight." And even as he made the promise, he wondered just how in the hell he was going to do that. Short of stealing the flight recorder, smuggling it off base, and giving it to Scully…

* * *

**Friday**

 

Scully slowly entered the basement office, not surprised to see that Mulder was sitting there, playing some sort of game on his computer instead of pouring over the files on his desk as he usually did. It somehow seemed typical of the "new, improved" Mulder, and she felt a shiver run down her back at the memory of the other man, Morris Fletcher, being dragged off by the military police the previous evening, all the time insisting that the "imposter" had set him up, and that he was the real Mulder. The memory of that had haunted her while she slept, had occupied her thoughts even while she was being chewed out by A.D. Kersh, replaying over and over again.

"So, what did Kersh say?"

Scully sighed and opened her desk drawer; something caught her eye and she pulled it out – a penny and a dime that she had found at the sight of that burned-out gas station. Somehow, in some inexplicable manner, they had been fused together, only it was more than that. It was almost as if the two items had tried to occupy the same space, ending up with one of them cleanly inserted through the other. She had never seen anything like it before, and the fact that it had come from the same area they had been investigating made her shiver.

She dropped it into her pocket, then opened the bottom drawer to take out her purse and a few personal items. "I've been suspended for two weeks without pay for insubordination."

"Tough break," the man she had thought was Mulder said sympathetically. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place tonight. I'll cook dinner – might ease the pain a little."

Scully gave him a blank look. It was Friday, and he and Skinner almost always had plans for the weekend. Even though the A.D. had been out of the office for the past two days, she doubted that it would affect their regular plans. In fact, Mulder should have been practically bouncing in his chair with anticipation – the Mulder she knew, at any rate. But then again, that Mulder – on the verge of permanent commitment to his male lover – wouldn't have given Kersh's assistant a second look, much less made out with her. Another doubt wormed its way into her mind.

"All right," she said slowly. "Seven sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," Mulder said, and she could have sworn before she left that she saw him wink at her.

* * *

 

Skinner was trying to keep himself from stomping around his apartment, slamming doors, but his steadily increasing temper was getting the worst of him. Two days in meetings with the Director had been bad, but he had consoled himself with the thought that the weekend was coming and that he and Mulder had plans to spend the next two days together. However, when he had run into the other man in the hallway earlier that day and reminded him to pick up some wine on the way over, Mulder had given him a blank look before – with insincere reluctance – canceling their dinner. The smug look and wink Mulder had given him when he mentioned that he had invited Scully over for dinner also surprised him. Of course he had no objection to his lover wanting to maintain his friendship with Scully, but there was something in the other man's voice that had set his teeth on edge.

If he hadn't known better, he would have said that he was jealous.

If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that Mulder was going to try to seduce his partner.

And if he wasn't just the tiniest bit uncertain that he _did_ know better, he wouldn't be slamming the cabinets in his kitchen.

* * *

 

Mulder had been metaphorically holding his breath ever since his release from the holding cells at the base. It seemed that someone else had switched the flight recorder, and he had managed to bluff his way through a meeting by asserting that he had been trying to catch the informant. They had believed him, and he had escaped to his car and off the base. But as he headed back towards Fletcher's house, he could feel the desperation rising inside and knew that if he didn't get someone to believe him, he would go crazy.

He pulled up at a phone booth outside a diner and dialed Skinner's home phone, hoping that the man would be there. The phone rang twice and then, thankfully, Skinner picked it up and answered.

“Skinner.”

“Walter! Thank God!”

“Who is this?” Skinner’s voice was suspicious.

“It’s Mulder.”

“Right,” he said dryly. “Well, for your information, I spoke to Agent Mulder earlier this afternoon, and he didn’t sound like he was coming down with a cold. Good-bye – “

“Peaches!” Mulder said desperately. “Your training name was Peaches, and you call me Kitten – “

“Deposit additional money to continue this call,” the operator intoned.

“Shit! I’m all out of change. Call me back at 555-457-1212. Please, Walter, call me back!” Mulder was cut off and he hung up the phone, leaning his head against the phone booth. _Please call, Walter. Please call._

The phone rang and he snatched it up. “Thank you, Walter!”

“Would you mind telling me what you’re doing in Nevada when I spoke to you only two hours ago?” Skinner asked coolly.

Mulder sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, disconcerted by the fact that it felt different. "Two days ago, Scully and I came out here to meet with an informant about some mysterious experiments the military was doing. Only – something happened, and I ended up inside the body of a man named Morris Fletcher, and he's in my body. _That's_ the man you saw earlier."

There was silence on the other end of the phone and he could feel his anxiety rising. "Please, Walter, I know it sounds crazy – "

"Actually, that's the one thing that makes me believe it's you," his lover said dryly. "Only Mulder could come up with something like this. So what do we do now?"

Mulder blew out a relieved breath, feeling suddenly calmed by the thought that his lover believed him. "I need you to talk to Scully for me, convince her about what's going on. I tried to talk with her yesterday but she had me arrested."

"Arrested?" Skinner's voice was sharp. "Are you calling me from _jail_?"

"No, they believed me when I said that I was setting up a sting operation to try to find out who Mulder's informant was." I snorted. "This Fletcher's a piece of work, Walter. He'll stab just about anyone in the back, and he'd be chasing every skirt around if it wasn't for the fact that he's married to the biggest shrew I've ever seen."

"Is she pretty?" Skinner's voice was sharp with jealousy, and Mulder couldn't help grinning.

"Not my type – and I slept in the recliner the last two nights, for your information."

"Good."

There was a possessive growl in Skinner's voice, and Mulder could feel a delicious shiver run down his back. _The things that man can do to me,_ he thought with a grin. "Of course, I have no idea where my own body slept – "

"Hell," Skinner muttered, and Mulder heard him moving around his apartment. "When I asked him over to dinner tonight, Mulder – I mean, the other guy – turned me down. Said he had big plans with 'Dana' and waggled his eyebrows at me. I thought he – you – whoever – was kidding around and that you two had a working dinner planned, but from what you're telling me, I'd better get over there."

"Yeah – before Scully breaks my body. Call me later – oh, hell! You can't – they're monitoring my office and home phones. Look, I'll try to slip out later, go to a bar or something, and I'll call you then on your cell phone, okay?"

"All right. Take care of yourself, Fox." The last was said softly, and Mulder found his throat suddenly tight.

"You, too, Walter. And whatever you do, don't trust this guy."

* * *

 

Skinner knocked on Mulder's door and was a little surprised when Scully answered it instead of the man he had thought of as Mulder. He was even more surprised to see that she had her gun out.

"Scully? Something wrong?"

She drew in a deep breath as she held the door open wider. "Sir, you're not going to believe this, but – "

Skinner entered the apartment and shut the door behind him. "Mulder and some man named Fletcher have somehow swapped bodies." He smiled slightly at the startled look Scully gave him. "The real Mulder called me on the phone about an hour ago and convinced me. He said that you didn't believe him, though. What made you change your mind?"

"Come with me."

Scully led the way to the bedroom and Skinner paused in the doorway to look around. The last time he had been in this room, it had been filled with boxes as Mulder prepared for the move to their new house – not that the room had ever been used for more than storage space. Now the room was almost overwhelmed by a large four-poster bed, repulsively complete with leopard-skin sheets. What's more, it was a waterbed with mirrored ceilings, something he couldn't imagine Mulder ever buying. Mulder – or rather, Mulder's body – appeared to be handcuffed to the headboard.

"I see what you mean," he said, grimacing at the sight.

"Actually, what really convince me was something _he_ said," Scully said, gesturing towards Fletcher with a twinkle in her eyes. "When I pulled out the handcuffs, he got the idea it was some sort of sex game and made a comment about it being his 'first time' in cuffs. That's when I knew it wasn't Mulder – that and the fact that the apartment has _never_ been this clean."

Skinner chuckled at that and would have said something but the phone rang. The answering machine picked it up and after the first few words Scully realized that it was Mulder's contact. She ordered Fletcher to pick it up, crossing the room to listen to the voice on the other end. When the man hung up, Scully turned to Skinner.

"Who was that?"

"Mulder's contact in Nevada – the one that got us out there in the first place," she said, meeting his eyes. "And possibly our only hope to getting _our_ Mulder back."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Skinner asked, pulling out his phone and rapidly dialing the airlines to make reservations for three to Nevada.

* * *

**Saturday**

 

Mulder sat in Fletcher's car, staring up into the night sky, and thinking about his life. His old life, the one that he had just started to think might have a chance at happily-ever-after. He snorted at that – typical that the Fates or the Gods or whomever it was that liked to fuck with Fox Mulder's life had decided to throw him this curve. Possibly stuck for the rest of his life in this strange body, living someone else's existence, while the man who had _his_ body and _his_ life didn't even have the sense to appreciate what he had. It would have made him laugh if it hadn't made him feel like crying.

He closed his eyes, trying not to think about those few minutes in the parking lot the previous night when he had seen Skinner. Fletcher had been there, working out a plan to get the real flight recorder for Scully, so they hadn't had a chance to say more than a few words, much less touch. He had wanted to hug the other man, to reassure himself that somehow Skinner could still love him, no matter what body he was in. A hopeless thought - even if it were possible, there was no way that he could get out of the mess that was Morris Fletcher's life and take up with Skinner. Mulder had no delusions about just what kind of "retirement package" the men that Fletcher worked with would offer him if he tried to leave. So if the Gunmen couldn't figure out something from the flight recorder, couldn't figure out a way to reverse the effects, then he would be stuck in Fletcher's life. Forever.

Another car pulled up and, before the headlights switched off, he saw three familiar faces. Two of them got out of the car, sober expressions on their faces, and he drew in a deep breath before getting out to join them.

"You don't look happy," he said, looking first at Skinner and then Scully. "Don’t tell me that I'm going to have to put two kids through school."

Skinner reached out with a tentative hand, touching Mulder's cheek. "That _is_ you in there, isn't it, Mulder?"

Mulder nodded, and couldn't help turning his face into the caress. "It's me, Walter."

"The Gunmen analyzed the crash data," Scully said quietly. "They found out that there was an anomalous event that night."

"So how do I get back?"

Scully hesitated. "Mulder, there are too many variables involved for them to accurately recreate the anomaly and get you back."

Skinner nodded in agreement. "If we were off – if the event were off by even one millisecond – "

"I might wind up with my head in a rock," Mulder said dryly.

"Something like that," Scully said soberly.

They were all quiet for a long moment, then Mulder jerked his head towards the third person sitting in their car. "What about him?"

"Agent Mulder is A.D. Kersh's new 'golden boy'. He's supposed to return the flight data recorder." She snorted. "The son of a bitch confesses to Kersh even more than I do to my priest."

Mulder laughed shortly. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"What Scully's not telling you," Skinner said, "is that she's been fired from the Bureau, and I've been ordered to 'explain myself' to the Director on Monday."

Mulder gave them shocked looks. "Scully, you _have_ to get your job back! Walter, take the data – explain it to them -"

She shook her head. "If we can't fix this…I don't want _that_ as my partner," she said gesturing towards the car. Morris apparently was getting impatient; he honked on the horn and shouted out the window, "Take a picture – it'll last longer."

"I see what you mean," Mulder said. "You know, if I shoot him, is that murder or suicide?"

Scully gave a short bark of laughter. "Neither, if I do it first." She squeezed his arm. "Mulder – "

Her voice broke off, and Mulder covered her hand with his. "I know."

She nodded and squeezed his arm again, then looked at Skinner. "I'll wait in the car."

"I'll be there in a minute – and try to contain your justifiable inclinations towards homicide, Agent."

"No promises, Sir."

Left alone, except for the two people sitting in the car nearby, Mulder found he was unable to think of anything to say to the man he had come to love more than life, the man he might never hold in his arms again. "Walter – "

Skinner wanted to reach out and touch his lover, to hug him and kiss him for what might be the last time, but he couldn't do anything like that in front of the witness sitting in the car behind him. Gruffly, he said, "I'd kiss you, but you're so damn ugly."

Mulder smiled faintly at that, recognizing the line from one of his favorite movies. "Walter," he said hoarsely, "I promise you, I'll keep trying to find a way back."

Skinner nodded. "I know."

Fletcher tooted the horn impatiently again and Skinner grimaced. "I think that I may just have to flip Scully for the rights to kick that man's ass, but I'll try not to damage anything vital, just in case."

"I appreciate that," Mulder said.

They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, silently expressing what they couldn't say out loud, then Skinner turned and walked back towards the car. Mulder stood beside his car, watching them drive off, and wondered if he was saying good-bye for good.

* * *

**Sunday**

 

Scully stared listlessly out the window of the car, trying not to listen to Fletcher's long and boring story about some free room he got somewhere by showing his badge – Mulder's badge. She had never thought that she would admit it to anyone, not even herself, but she missed Mulder's stories almost as much as she missed the man himself. As crazy and improbable as they had been, at least they weren't full of this self-important crap that Fletcher kept spouting.

No wonder Skinner had ducked out on them at the first possible moment, she thought to herself with a grimace. He had caught a red-eye back to D.C. following their meeting with the real Mulder the previous evening, supposedly to see if he could shake some trees and get an answer, but she had seen the hopelessness in his eyes. She felt the same way herself, and she wasn't even in love with her partner.

"Dana." Fletcher's voice sounded hesitant. "I can talk to Kersh, try to get your job back." She turned and stared at him, surprised, and he shrugged. "We could have lots of fun together, once you got to know me."

She was surprised to find that she had to fight back a laugh; the man might be a self-centered jerk, but maybe there was something redeeming about him. "I've still got my gun," she began, then realized what she had just seen outside the window. "Stop – back up!"

Fletcher obeyed and pulled into the parking lot of a gas station. The same gas station that they had passed the previous day, the one that had burned down a few days ago. It was standing there, undamaged.

Scully exchanged a look with Fletcher. "It's reversing itself," she said, not even trying to hide the excitement in her voice.

Fletcher nodded slowly. "And anything within its path will be returned to normal."

Scully reached in her pocket and pulled out the fused dime and penny, holding it up for Fletcher to see. "I picked this up right here earlier this week. These two must have merged during the first incident, but they weren't here when it reversed – "

"So they remained the same."

"We have to find Mulder! If the two of you are in the same area as before, it might even reverse the body-swapping effect."

For once, Fletcher didn't argue with her, hopping back into the car and heading towards what had been his home when he had been in his own body.

* * *

**Thursday**

 

Mulder walked wearily down the hallway in his apartment building. It had been an exhausting two days - the trip out to Nevada to investigate a report that the government was testing some kind of secret aircraft had turned into just another frustrating encounter with those Men in Black who seemed to crawl out of the woodwork just when he was getting close to something. Somehow, it seemed longer than two days, though; it seemed like it had been a week since he had left here, and he was looking forward to relaxing with some mindless drivel on the television. It would have been better if he was spending the evening with his lover, but Skinner was supposed to be in meetings with the Director till late. Still, tomorrow night was Friday, and they had several things planned for the weekend. He smiled; they might even make it out of bed at some point.

His cell phone rang and he answered it, smiling as he heard his partner's voice on the other end. "Hey, Scully. What's up?"

"I'm at the office; and you'll be pleased to know that this little trip slipped under Kersh's radar. No one noticed we were gone." Her voice paused. "I'm sorry your source didn't pan out."

He shrugged. "I guess you were right, Scully. Just another crackpot who watches too much Star Trek."

She laughed, then said, "Mulder, before we left Nevada, you didn't put something in my pocket, did you?"

"Like what?"

"A penny and a dime, only they’re somehow melded together – or, rather, one of them is inserted _through_ the other. I've never seen anything like it."

"Doesn't sound familiar, but I'll take a look at it when I come in tomorrow."

"It's probably nothing," she said, "It's just - odd. Good night, Mulder."

Suddenly, it seemed important for him to tell Scully just how much it meant that she kept going out there with him. "Scully – I know it's not a normal life, but – thanks for coming with me."

He could almost hear her smile. "You're welcome."

Mulder turned off his phone and unlocked his door, setting his bag down on the floor inside with a sigh. Then he frowned and looked around slowly. Someone had been in his apartment – someone with a fetish for cleaning, he thought, looking around at the way the apartment had been tidied and slightly rearranged. Under other circumstances, he might have suspected Skinner's hand in this, but the other man had clearly said that he was going to be tied up for two days with the Director.

There was a light on in the bedroom that he was using for storage and he pulled his gun, cautiously approaching the open door. A quick look inside made him freeze and stare in disbelief, then he rubbed his eyes and looked again. He holstered his gun, turned and went back to the front door, opening it and looking at the number. 42, so he was in the right apartment, but what in the hell was going on?

He looked back at the bedroom and shook his head. _Walter_ , he thought. It was the only explanation that made any sense.

* * *

**Friday evening**

 

Skinner stood in the doorway to Mulder's bedroom, staring with stunned amazement at the huge four-poster bed that occupied most of the room. The sheets were something out of a mid-life-crisis, and he had the suspicion that the thing was a waterbed. He walked over to the bed and pushed on the mattress, confirming his suspicion, then looked back at his lover. Mulder was propped up against the door jam, his arms crossed, and an amused look on his face.

"I didn't know you liked waterbeds," Skinner said.

"I never thought about it," Mulder admitted. "But if you really want one, that's fine with me."

"If _I_ want one? You bought it because you thought I wanted a waterbed?"

Mulder uncrossed his arms and walked over to his lover. "I didn't buy it. I thought that _you_ did."

"What do you mean – you thought I bought it?"

"I mean that it was here when I got back from Nevada – the only other person who has a key is Scully, and she was with me."

The two men exchanged confused looks and Skinner said, slowly, "Probably those strange friends of yours, Mulder. I doubt that the Consortium broke into your apartment to give you a waterbed."

Mulder grinned. "Unless it's booby-trapped. Shall we test it and see?" Without waiting for an answer, he kicked off his shoes and lay down on one side of the bed. "It's more comfortable than I thought it would be."

Skinner slid off his shoes and lay down as well, then burst out laughing. "Mirrors, Mulder? Are you _sure_ you didn't buy this?"

Dryly, Mulder said, "I'm positive. I certainly wouldn't have picked out these sheets if I had. I have more taste." Skinner rolled over on his side, grinning at Mulder and started to open his mouth. "Don't you _dare_ mention ties, Walter!"

"I was just going to agree with you – after all, you picked me, didn't you?"

Mulder gave him a suspicious look. "Are you trying to soften me up?"

Skinner chuckled. "Just the opposite." He leaned over to nuzzle Mulder's neck, one hand moving to caress the younger man's groin.

Mulder caught his breath on a moan. "Bastard."

"Mmm-hmm."

Skillful fingers started unbuttoning Mulder's shirt while an equally skillful mouth traveled down his throat, and Mulder felt a shiver of desire wash over him. "Well, I suppose we should test this thing. To see if it's safe."

"Works for me."

Skinner swiftly stripped Mulder and set about reducing him to an incoherent puddle. Mulder responded eagerly, as if he had been without the mind-bending pleasure of his lover's touch for a week instead of just two days. He pulled at Skinner's shirt, sending buttons flying across the room, and laughed as his lover growled at him. Skinner bit Mulder's neck in retaliation but the younger man didn't seem to find that a punishment because he moaned and wrapped his legs around Skinner's thighs, pulling him down tighter so that their cocks rubbed against each other. The movement set up a gentle rocking of the bed beneath them, intensifying the friction of their bodies and Skinner caught his breath. He had to be inside Mulder _now_ , had to know what it felt like to slowly fuck his lover while the bed moved with them.

Skinner reached for the nightstand and pulled out the lube, swiftly preparing the younger man before sliding home in one smooth glide. Mulder was so tight, so hot, and Skinner had to control the urge to ride him hard and fast. That would come later, after they'd had the chance to rest, but right now he intended to make this time long and slow. He pulled out slowly and thrust back in just as slowly, and he heard Mulder gasp underneath him.

"God, Walter! That's so good!"

"Mmm," Skinner murmured in reply.

He shifted Mulder's legs up to his shoulders and leaned down to kiss his lover, a slow and thorough exploration that soon had the younger man panting breathlessly. At the same time, he continued his slow stroking in and out of his lover's tight channel, concentrating on just the right angle to drive Mulder insane. And, from the noises that Mulder was making, he obviously was doing just that. Mulder was babbling incoherently and had long since stopped making sense. He was alternating between moaning and pleading, and his words inflamed Skinner even more, but he resisted the urge to let go. He wanted Mulder to come first, wanted to feel his lover tighten around him, wanted that last little push that would drive Mulder over the edge.

"Fox – open your eyes," he gasped. He watched as Mulder's eyes snapped open obediently, and knew that Mulder was looking up at their reflection in the mirror. He grasped Mulder's hips with his hands and sat back on his heels, bringing his lover with him so that Mulder's ass was spread on Skinner's thighs, then pushed Mulder's heels towards his chest. Then he continued his slow thrusting and heard Mulder's gasp just a moment before the other man's body clenched in climax. He threw his own head back then, watching himself watch Mulder as he came in desperate, eager pulses, and whatever brain cells he had remaining decided that it was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. His own climax seemed wrenched out of him, his body thrusting and thrusting until he finally collapsed in a boneless heap on Mulder's chest.

Mulder lay panting under him for a long time and dimly Skinner thought that he should move, take some of the weight off his lover, but his nervous system had checked out without leaving a forwarding address. The younger man didn't seem to mind, though, and even had enough breath left to talk.

"That was incredible."

Skinner managed a weak chuckle and gently eased out of Mulder's body before collapsing on the bed beside his lover. The mattress undulated gently beneath him, like the rocking of a boat in harbor, and Skinner suddenly felt sleepy. "Think the bedroom floor in the new house will support a waterbed?"

Mulder yawned and stretched. "Doubt it. Besides, I prefer your bed on a regular basis – I think I hit bottom a couple times there. Still, this was fun for a change of pace, and those mirrors…" Casually, he said, "We could always put it in the playroom in the basement."

Skinner rolled up on an elbow and looked down into his lover's face. "Are we putting in a playroom?"

Mulder shrugged. "Might be a good idea. We have all that lovely – and private – space down there. Seems a waste to use it all for storage. Besides, we can secure it and keep any incriminating stuff there, like toys and books and movies. I can get the Gunmen to run a security system separate from the one they're doing for the rest of the house – double protection."

Skinner ran a hand down his lover's body, watching the shiver that ran along his skin, and considered. They didn't have any toys or movies at either of their residences for just that reason – security. And they had agreed that they were going to play fantasy games at home, so they'd need to have some place to play. It made sense.

"It sounds like a good idea," he agreed. "Why don't you get together with Sean to design and supply it?"

Mulder's eyes popped open in surprise. "Me?"

"Why not? It would be good experience for you, and we said we'd be equals. Besides," Skinner grinned at him. "I'd love to see what that incredible imagination of yours can cook up."

Mulder grinned broadly and hugged his lover. Skinner responded with a brief kiss, then settled the two of them under the blankets, his eyes closing wearily as Mulder settled on his side next to him. Skinner leaned over to kiss the sweat-dampened hair and had vague thoughts of a shower when they'd had a little nap, then drifted off to sleep.

Mulder lay drowsily snuggled up against his lover's body, listening to the even breathing that told him that Skinner had drifted off to sleep. Although he was pleasantly tired, sleep momentarily eluded him, but he didn't mind. It was nice to just lay there, his body still tingling from the love that they had just made. An idle thought drifted through his head and made him shiver – what if something were to happen to take this all away from him?

Skinner stirred under him. "Fox?" he murmured.

"Shh, go back to sleep, Walter."

"Can't – you're thinking too loud." Skinner roused himself enough to pull Mulder into his arms, settling the younger man's head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around Mulder's body. "Sleep now. Worry later."

Mulder chuckled and turned his head to kiss the warm skin under his head. "You're so organized, Walter." He let his eyes drift closed and, safely wrapped in his lover's arms, drifted into dreams of the perfect playroom.

 


	49. Kicks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder starts plans for a new playroom – and plays a new game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quote comes from "I Get a Kick Outta You".

_I get no kick from champagne  
_ _Mere alcohol  
_ _Doesn't move me at all_ _  
So tell me why should it be true  
_ _That I get a kick outta you."_

 

"Sean, I need your help."

It was Monday morning, and Sean was stretched out on a couch in the library, enjoying a good book and the quiet that always filled the Club at the start of a holiday week. He looked up at Mulder and sighed dramatically. "What did you do _now_? And aren't you playing hookie from work?"

"I took some vacation days – and it's not like that," Mulder protested. "We've decided to put a playroom into the new house, and Walter's giving me free rein to design and furnish it."

Sean sat up, eyes gleaming. "Budget?"

"No limit – I'm spending my own money on this."

Sean bounced on the couch. "Great! My two favorite hobbies – SM and shopping!"

Mulder chuckled. "I thought that sex was one of your favorite hobbies?"

"No, sex falls into the category of obsession – my sex life and everyone else's." Sean gave him a grin, and Mulder rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I know some people that can help – the ones that designed the rooms here. They're expensive, but they're _good_ and they're discreet. And then there are several shops for toys – what kinds of things do you need?"

"Everything," Mulder said simply. "We don't have any toys at home, and I want our playroom to be fully stocked."

Sean collapsed back on the couch with a laugh. "I'm in heaven! This is going to be such fun!" He looked over at Mulder with bright eyes. "When do you want to start?"

"You got time now?"

Sean grinned. "A man with a mission. I like that." He sat up. "Do you have a layout of the area where you want to put the playroom?"

Mulder nodded. "I've got a couple of extra sets of blueprints at the new house. We can stop by there and pick up a copy, and you can take a look at the area where I want to put it, see what you think."

Sean nodded. "I'll call Jerry and see if she's got some free time today." He stood up, paled, and sat down again. "Give me a minute."

"You okay?" Mulder asked, concerned.

"Yeah," Sean said, bending over and breathing deeply. "Just a reaction to the new adjustments in my medication."

"Didn't they just adjust them a few months ago?" Mulder asked, remembering what Scully had said about the lessening effectiveness of a drug regimen over time, and he felt a chill.

"They're always adjusting the damn meds," Sean said irritably. "Just when we think we have it under control, the damn thing seems to _change_ , to adapt to the medication." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "If I didn't know it was impossible, I'd say the bloody disease has artificial intelligence."

Mulder shivered at that and sat down on the couch next to Sean. "Maybe we'd better hold off on the shopping till later."

"Don't coddle me," Sean snapped. "I've got enough people worrying me to death – Geoff, Dana, my doctor, the lab – " He snorted. "Hell, the lab is rooting freaked, think it might be a new strain of AIDS. If my doc hadn't insisted on using an anonymous name on my blood work, I'd probably be strapped down in a secret lab somewhere while they poked and prodded me."

Mulder went still. "Sean, did you ever meet Bennet's Senior?"

"Of course. He used to be a member here till Geoff kicked him out. You knew that."

Mulder nodded slowly. "Yeah, but did you ever do anything personally to the man? Something that might make him pissed off enough to hold a grudge?"

Sean blinked. "Not that I recall, although he was really narked with Geoff and threatened him."

"Were the two of you together then?"

"No – we were still lusting from afar." He flushed and dropped his head, watching his hands as they worried the seam in his jeans. "That was before – you know."

Mulder nodded, knowing that Sean was referring to his torture and rape by an unsafe Top. "Sean, I don't want to drag up bad memories, but I need to know more. You're a safe player – why did you go with this guy?"

Sean shrugged, still not looking up. "I was pissed with Geoff because he stopped letting the Mountain play with me."

Mulder stiffened. "What?" he asked, glaring at Sean. "You didn't tell me that you and Walter played together!"

"It wasn't like that, Mulder," Sean protested. "Geoff just borrowed me for training sessions, when he needed someone for Walter to put through a scene – "

Mulder surged up off the couch, angrily pacing across the room. "Why the hell am I surprised?" he said sarcastically. "He seems to have fucked just about all the gay men here at the Club! Next you'll be telling me that he and Jean-Pierre – " He swung around to glare at Sean again. "They didn't, did they?"

Sean shook his head vigorously. "Jean just gave him cooking lessons, I swear! And he didn't fuck me, either. Or all the gay men here at the Club – just the ones that fit a certain type."

"Yeah – ones like Krycek."

"No – ones like you."

Mulder stopped cold in mid-rant and turned to stare blankly at Sean. "What?"

Sean sighed dramatically. "Come on, Mulder, get over yourself and buy a clue! Yes, we played together a couple times and it was great. And yes, he played with a lot of other tall, dark-haired subs here at the Club – how did you think he got to be such a great Dom? By osmosis? But the fact of the matter is that he _never_ played with anyone more than a few times, and he _never_ offered anyone a bracelet. Just you."

Mulder dropped his head, staring at his shoes for a long moment. Then he drew a deep breath and lifted his head, looking at Sean. "Sorry," he said simply.

"'Sokay," Sean said, then added, "Are _we_ okay?"

Mulder nodded. "We're good."

"Still want my help with your playroom?"

Mulder gave him a half-smile and sat back down on the couch. "Of course, if you're up to it."

"I'm fine," Sean said stoutly, getting up from the couch. "See? Now, did you drive or do I need to call my driver?"

"I'm parked downstairs," Mulder said absently, leading the way towards the elevator. He had the feeling that he was missing something, that he had been on the track to something important before he let himself get sidetracked by Walter's past, but whatever it was eluded his conscious grasp. He shrugged; it would come back to him later.

 

* * *

 

Mulder pulled his car up to the curb in front of the new house, knowing that the back parking area would be filled with construction vehicles. He popped open the trunk and pulled out two hardhats, handing one to Sean. The younger man was surveying the outside of the building with keen eyes, and Mulder was abruptly reminded that the flighty-appearing sub was actually a superb businessman with countless holdings on several continents.

"This one yours?" he asked, indicating the central unit they had pulled up in front of.

"The whole building's mine," Mulder replied. "We're having the two central units combined for our home, and then I'll lease the two outside units to help pay for the taxes and upkeep."

Sean turned his head and gave Mulder an approving nod. "Good plan. Lead the way, mate."

Mulder climbed the stairs to the outside landing where the two exterior doors had been replaced with one double door, and opened one of them into chaos. Workmen were everywhere, and the cacophony of drills and saws and hammers was nearly deafening. He caught sight of the chief contractor huddled with two of his workers, checking something with the central staircase that now replaced the old narrow one in the opened-up foyer. He caught sight of Mulder and finished talking with his men, then came over to him.

"Morning, Mr. Mulder," he said genially, shaking Mulder's hand.

Mulder always felt a little overwhelmed by the sight of his hand disappearing in the big man's huge paw, but he smiled back easily. "Hello, Steve. How's it coming?"

Steve gestured towards the staircase. "Inspector okayed it last night, so we're gonna start on the finish work. Looks like a lovely grain under that paint. The new windows and doors are all in place, and we're starting the structure work on the third floor."

"Good," Mulder said. "This is Sean Matthews – "

Steve's face lit up in a big smile. "Oh, I know Mr. Matthews – did a lot of the work on that place of his." He turned to engulf Sean's hand in one of his. "How you doin', boy?"

Sean grinned back. "Tolerable, considering how you deserted me once you finished working on the Club."

"Right," Steve scoffed. "If you aren't knocking boots with that Mr. Mason by now, I'll eat my hardhat."

Sean chuckled. "You're right. We've been together three years," he said proudly.

"Congrats, kid."

"We're going to take a look at the basement," Mulder said. "And I promise that we'll stay out of your way."

Steve nodded and turned back to his crew. Mulder led the way across the foyer to the kitchen that ran along the back of the house, giving Sean a sideways look and a grin.

"Old friends, huh?"

Sean smacked Mulder's arm. "Not _that_ kind of friends. Steve's not a member of the Club although he could be if he wanted. Besides, he's a Bear, not my type at all. But he's a great guy, and a hell of a carpenter."

Mulder nodded and opened the door to the narrow stairs that led down to the basement. He flicked on a switch and was relieved to see light flood the darkness below him.

"The basement runs under the two central units," he said, descending the stairs with Sean behind him. "It's got two large, open rooms off one side of the corridor, and the old laundry room and half-bath on the other side of the corridor." He gestured towards those rooms. "Walter and I decided to put the laundry room upstairs off the new kitchen, so we won't be needing the one down here."

Sean took a look at the laundry room and small bathroom beside it. "I'd suggest turning both of these into a large bathroom. You're going to want someplace to clean up after playing. A Jacuzzi would be good, too, for relaxing muscles."

Mulder nodded, then turned to the other side of the hallway, unlocking one of the storage rooms. It was a large, open room, getting a little daylight from a narrow window high on the wall, which would be at sidewalk level outside.

"You'll need to get that glass replaced with something opaque that'll still let in light," Sean commented, then turned around slowly, studying the room. "The other one's like this, too?"

Mulder nodded and crossed to unlock the small doorway that connected the two storage areas. Sean took a look at the other room, then nodded his head decisively.

"Well, you've got enough room here to put in _several_ playrooms, Mulder, so what exactly did you have in mind?" Mulder gave the younger man a blank look, and Sean sighed. "Let me put it another way. What kinds of games did you two want to play here at home?"

Mulder flushed slightly and cleared his throat. "I hadn't thought about it much," he admitted. "I've been given a huge waterbed and it can't go upstairs, so I thought we'd put it down here. And we'll still keep playing the usual games at the Club, but I need some place where I can – take care of Walter."

"Take care of him?"

"Like Mason does."

Sean noticed the set look to Mulder's face and winced inwardly, knowing that he was the one who had opened that Pandora's box. "Okay," he said slowly. "Then you'll want the standard equipment – rack, cross, spanking bench, and so forth." Mulder nodded. "But what about you, Mulder? What do _you_ want?"

Mulder shrugged. "I'm okay with what we have at the Club – "

"Bullshit," Sean said succinctly. "If that were the case, you wouldn't have tried that slave get-up for the Mountain's birthday."

"That was a mistake – "

Sean crossed the room and took his taller friend's face between his hands. "It's never a mistake to ask your partner for something you want or need," he said softly. "And I know that Walter has agreed to try to meet your needs. But he's not a mind reader – you have to _ask_." He noticed the deeper flush to Mulder's face and hazarded a guess. "You haven't tried anything like that since you two got back together, have you?"

Mulder shook his head. "Didn't want to risk it," he muttered. "Didn't want to screw things up."

Sean smacked Mulder's arm. "Mulder! Don't be an idiot! That last failure was _Walter's_ fault, and he admits it. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," Mulder said with a sigh, and a faint smile turned up his lips. "You're a bully, Sean."

"You bet. And I want you to _promise_ me that you'll take the next opportunity to play out your fantasy, okay?" Mulder nodded, and Sean patted his cheek approvingly. "Good boy."

He let go of Mulder and surveyed the rooms again. "You'll need to break up all this space, make it more intimate. An area for the bed, the main play area, and a storage section where you can keep the toys you're not using, as well as props for the fantasy play area.

"A regular play area _and_ a fantasy play area?" Mulder asked.

Sean nodded. "You set up your usual stuff in here," he said, gesturing to the part of the room he was standing in. "Spanking bench, St. Andrew's cross, suspension system for slings and things like that." He walked through the doorway and gestured to the area he was now standing in. "But over here you don't want to put in anything _permanent_. You can trick it out with suspension cables and bolts and the like, make it easier to assemble your props when you need them."

"Need them for what?"

Sean shrugged. "A sheik's tent, or the mast of a pirate ship, or a schoolmaster's desk – whatever you need to stage whatever game you want to play." He gave Mulder a mischievous grin. "You have an imagination, Mulder. Use it."

Mulder felt a grin cross his face. He could do that. "Then you think this place will do?"

"It'll more than do. Grab a copy of the blueprints, and let's go talk to Jerry."

* * *

Following Sean's directions, Mulder pulled up behind a building that looked like a warehouse and got out, giving the place a disbelieving look.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" he asked the other sub. Sean rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the comment, walking over to press a buzzer under a small sign that read "Free By Design". A few minutes later, the door was opened and a shriek nearly made Mulder run for the car.

"Sean!"

A small blond woman literally threw herself at Sean, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him ecstatically. "Where have you been? Why haven't you been by to see us? Are you okay?" The last was said anxiously as the woman pulled away and studied his face.

"Holding it together," Sean replied with a little shrug. "How are you doing, love?"

"Great. Jerry just finished a big job so we've been kicking back and relaxing." She looked past him at Mulder and smiled. "Who's your cute friend?"

"Hands to yourself, darling – he's definitely taken."

"All the good ones are," she said with an exaggerated sigh, then crossed over to Mulder, holding out her hand. "Hi. I'm Mallory."

"Fox Mulder," he said, returning her handshake. He was surprised to find that her grip was strong for her size.

"Are you going to invite them in, Mally, or make them talk in the yard?" asked an amused voice from the doorway, and Mulder looked up to see -a tall, dark-haired woman standing there. "Hello, Sean."

"Hi, Jerry," Sean said, moving closer for a hug. "I brought you a new client. This is Fox Mulder – and he prefers to be called Mulder."

Mulder stepped closer to shake the woman's hand, finding that she was about as tall as he was. "I hope we aren't intruding – "

"Of course not," Jerry said, stepping back and waving them in. She led the way through the warehouse and up a flight of stairs to a cozy loft, inviting them to sit down while she got coffee. Mallory plopped down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table and held out a hand.

"Let's see what you've got."

Mulder looked questioningly at Sean and he nodded, so Mulder handed over the blueprints. The blond woman rolled the papers out on the table and bent over them, studying them intently.

"Mallory's got a degree in architecture," Sean explained. "And she's a hell of a draftsman. She does the technical work while Jerry handles the creative side."

"So what are we looking at?" Jerry asked, coming back in with a coffee tray.

"The building's over a hundred years old," Mulder said. "In Old Alexandria. The part we're interested in is the basement in the central section."

"Already has plumbing which is a bonus," Mallory said absently. "Looks like two large, lovely rooms off a corridor. Horrid little bath and washroom at the back, though."

"We've put in a new laundry room upstairs so I don't need that one," Mulder said quickly.

"And you want to turn the whole area into a dungeon?" Jerry asked, glancing briefly over her partner's shoulder as she handed out cups of coffee.

Mulder gave Sean an uncertain look, and the sub nodded. "Yes."

"Got anything specific in mind?" Jerry asked, sitting down in a large armchair. "Atmospheric or purely functional? Modern or period? Marquis de Sade or Fantasy Island?"

Mulder gave Sean another look, this one utterly helpless. "Um – "

Sean laughed. "Jerry, Mulder's new at this sort of thing. He's only been in the Lifestyle for a year, and this is his first home playground, so you'll have to be gentle."

Jerry broke into a wide grin at that. "I'm always gentle, Sean. It's Mall who's the tough one."

Mallory snorted at that and looked up. "Lovely structure. Who's doing the rehab work?"

"Steve Baker," Sean said, and Mallory nodded her head in satisfaction.

"We've worked with him before. He's good people." She gave her partner a look that seemed to convey a whole conversation, then looked back at Mulder. "Funding?"

"As much as you need," he replied. "And Sean's right – I haven't the slightest idea of where to begin."

"He's going to want a regular type of scene setup in one area," Sean said.

"Nothing gothic or trendy," Mulder said hastily. "Walter would have a cow."

Jerry nodded. "Classic and functional, then."

"Exactly. And – and cozy." Mulder flushed a little at that but neither woman laughed so he felt bold enough to add, "And a separate area for playing out fantasy scenarios."

Jerry and Mallory exchanged a grin. "This is going to be fun," Jerry said.

Mallory nodded briskly and hopped up off the floor, fetching a pad and pencil from a work desk by the window. She made some notes, asking Mulder a few more questions, then shared another look with her partner.

"Give us two weeks to draw up some preliminary sketches," Jerry said. "Can we keep the blueprint till then?"

Mulder nodded. "I've got extras, so keep it as long as you need it."

"Thanks," Mallory said, briskly rolling up the blueprints and setting them aside. Then she leaned forward and, with a wicked grin, said, "And now that business is out of the way, tell us the latest gossip, Sean…"

* * *

 

Wednesday evening, Skinner turned into the parking garage for his apartment building, breathing an audible sigh of relief. It had been a brief but busy week, and he was looking forward to a few days off over the Thanksgiving holiday. He and Mulder were planning on spending a quiet evening at home, then heading up to the cabin for four days of relaxation away from the city.

He smiled as he saw that Mulder's car was already parked in his second space and quickened his pace as he headed for the elevator. It had been several days since he had seen his lover, although they had talked on the phone every evening. Mulder had decided to take some of his vacation this week so that he could spend time on the house-remodeling project and Skinner had missed even seeing him around the Hoover. He could hardly wait for the new house to be finished, when each night would be spent in his lover's company instead of just the all-too-short weekends.

Skinner unlocked the door and set down his briefcase, hanging up his coat as he called out Mulder's name. There was the scent of something delicious coming from the kitchen, overlaid with another, more exotic scent that Skinner couldn't identify. He stuck his head in the kitchen but it was empty, and he decided that Mulder must be upstairs in the bathroom or bedroom. The thought of catching his lover in the shower or while changing quickened his blood, and he almost missed the envelope sitting on the foyer table. The envelope with his name written in Mulder's handwriting.

His throat went suddenly dry and his hands shook slightly as he opened the envelope. Quickly, his eyes scanned down the short letter, noting with a puzzled frown that, although the signed name wasn't Mulder's, it was his handwriting. He went back to the top of the page and read it slowly.

_Honored Friend – A year ago, you did me the great service of saving this Unworthy One's life. I am delighted to be able to repay in part the debt I owe you with the gift of a most talented slave. He has tolerably good looks and has been trained in all methods of providing pleasure. It is my hope that you will accept this gift, however, should it offend your sensibilities, simply go upstairs and the slave will swiftly remove himself from your presence. Your humble servant –_

Skinner looked up from the letter with a thoughtful look on his face. He had no doubt about where his lover was – in the living room, naked except for those gold chains. Probably worrying himself into a nervous state by now, wondering if Skinner would accept his fantasy or reject him again. A smile slowly lit up his face. He had no intention of rejecting Mulder ever again.

Slowly, he walked into the living room, undoing his tie as he did. Just as he'd thought, Mulder was kneeling on the floor in front of the fire in a classic slave pose, thin gold chains running from the collar around his neck to his wrists and ankles. Twin nipple clamps adorned his chest, and the reflection of the firelight on them made it look like tongues of flame were licking Mulder's tits. Mulder had oiled himself with some exotic oil that made his body gleam like gold and smelled decadently erotic. He looked breathtakingly beautiful in the firelight, and Skinner had to breathe deeply a few times to get his heart and libido under control.

Deliberately, he walked over to the kneeling slave and stopped before him. Mulder stayed perfectly still, only his increased breathing showing that he was aware that the other man was standing inches in front of him.

"So you are the slave that my good friend, the – um - Sultan, sent to me," Skinner said, reaching out to tilt Mulder's face up towards his as if he was critically studying the younger man. "He was right – your looks are tolerable – " He ignored the slight snort at that. "He also says that you are well trained at providing pleasure."

"Yes, Master," Mulder said softly. "I can do anything that you want, be anything that you desire."

"Anything, slave?" Skinner growled, his hand moving down to grasp the chains at the base of the collar and pull Mulder up on his knees. "That's a dangerous promise to make. And a deadly one, should you fail to please me."

He saw the flair of arousal in Mulder's eyes and remembered how turned on the other man got when Skinner played up the dominant role at the Club. It confirmed his impression that Mulder wanted this fantasy to push beyond the careful boundaries of their Club roles, that Mulder wanted to be completely dominated. Used, possessed, owned. Just for one night. Skinner smiled. He could do this. He looked at Mulder, examined him up and down.

_Oh, yeah. He could definitely do this._

He released the chains and turned away, tossing his tie onto the coffee table. Then he took off his suit jacket and set it aside, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt as he sat down in his favorite chair.

"Come here, slave."

Slowly, seductively, Mulder crawled forward on his hands and knees until he was kneeling in front of Skinner. He looked so damned sexy that Skinner found himself instantly hard and, by the smirk on Mulder's face, he knew that the younger man knew it as well. He reached out and grabbed Mulder's hair, jerking his head back roughly.

"When I tell you to _come here_ , I expect immediate obedience. Not a show. Understand?"

Mulder eyes widened and Skinner saw his cock jump as he swallowed hard. "Yes, Master."

"Then apologize."

Mulder opened his mouth to speak and was startled again when Skinner pushed his head down towards the floor. Understanding the other man's meaning, he bent his head and kissed the tip of one of Skinner's shoes and then the other one. Then he started up Skinner's leg, bestowing a kiss every inch or two until he was finally nuzzling the hard bulge at the other man's groin.

"Better," Skinner said, his voice still stern. He grasped Mulder's hair again with one hand while his other hand moved to unfasten his pants and pull out his cock. "All right, my pretty slave, let's see how talented you are."

Mulder opened his mouth readily, taking in Skinner's cock with an ease developed over a year of experience. Skinner had always loved the other man's willingness to suck him off – no, more than willingness. His eagerness and absolute passion to do so, as if Skinner's flesh was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted and his ejaculate ambrosia. Sometimes, when they were in their bed or when they were at the Club, as Mulder took him in his mouth and sucked him, it was all he could do to keep from coming like a teenager. But tonight was not a night for Mulder to display his oral skills, and Skinner moved quickly to take charge of the situation.

He grasped Mulder's head with both hands, holding him in place so that he could slide his cock back and forth in Mulder's mouth. He heard the chains rattle slightly as Mulder's hands moved and released Mulder's head, pushing Mulder back slightly so that he could get a good look down at Mulder's body. The younger man's cock was jutting out proudly, no cock ring restraining it. For a moment he considered improvising one, but then a truly wicked thought crossed his mind.

He slid his hands down Mulder's body, tweaking the clamps on the younger man's tits, and heard him gasp and groan. His hand moved down to Mulder's erection, slowly stroking it. "Very good, slave," he murmured. "It pleases me to see that my pleasure arouses you so. And you want to please me, don't you, slave?"

"Y-yes, Master," Mulder gasped, clenching his eyes shut in an effort to control his body.

"Good. These are my orders, slave. You are to remain aroused at all times when you are in my presence so that I can enjoy the sight of this pretty cock. And every time I choose to play with you, you are to come. If you do not, you'll be punished."

"Oh, God!" Mulder groaned, his cock hardening even more in Skinner's hand.

"Do you understand me, slave?"

"Yes, Master," Mulder managed to say.

"Good." Skinner grasped Mulder's head again and pulled him down over his cock, thrusting deep into the mouth that opened readily for him. Skinner heard a slight groan from the younger man and saw the heat spike in Mulder's eyes before his eyelids slid shut. Mulder's jaw relaxed slightly, his throat opening to take Skinner in deep. Skinner groaned as he thrust faster and harder into the delicious heat, felt the delicious shudder that racked Mulder's body, and then his own climax was ripping through him. Mulder's mouth swallowed greedily around him, milking his cock even more, and Skinner shuddered.

Reluctantly, he allowed his softening member to slide out of Mulder's mouth and glanced down at the other man. Mulder's face was shiny with sweat and his lips swollen from use, his cock was still spasming with his release, and his eyes were bright green with lust and arousal and adoration. That look sent a flash of heat through Skinner's body, stirring his cock slightly, and he had to bite back a grin. _Mulder, you are such a slut,_ he thought in amusement.

"I need a bath," he said, standing up and heading upstairs. Without looking, he knew that Mulder was following him. He stopped in the middle of the bedroom and held out his arms, a silent order for the "slave" to undress him, and Mulder quickly obeyed. Naked, he strode into the bathroom and found that Mulder had already drawn a bath for him. He climbed into the tub and allowed Mulder to scrub his back and chest and head, enjoying the ministrations. Mulder's long fingers were strong and skillful, and he worked over Skinner's entire body with light, firm touches – not enough to arouse him yet, but definitely stirring his interest.

He glanced down at Mulder's body and realized that Mulder was so absorbed in what he was doing that he had forgotten Skinner's instructions. Although Mulder's cock wasn't entirely flaccid, it wasn't aroused by any definition.

"Turn around, slave," he growled. "Hands and knees."

Startled, Mulder did as he was ordered, kneeling on the floor with his ass pointed at the tub. He didn't see Skinner draw back his hand but felt the four sharp smacks on his backside and gasped.

"That's a warning, slave – the only one you'll get."

Belatedly, Mulder remembered his instructions and glanced down at his cock, chagrined. It was firming up nicely now, though, and Mulder wiggled his ass slightly, hoping to get a little more of that kind of attention. Skinner ignored him.

"Towel." Skinner ordered, standing up in the tub. Mulder scrambled up and fetched a towel, carefully drying Skinner's body. He performed the task quietly and efficiently, with none of the teasing touches and little kisses that he usually bestowed when performing this service at the Club. But then again, there were some things that a loving sub could do that a lowly slave couldn't.

Skinner slid his arms into the robe that Mulder held out for him, then captured his slave with one arm around his body to hold him still while he plundered Mulder's mouth. Mulder responded eagerly, relishing the possessiveness of Skinner's kisses, almost groaning when Skinner released him and pushed him towards the sink.

"Bend over," Skinner ordered, and Mulder grabbed onto the sink and braced himself, expecting to be fucked. Skinner's hand stroked down Mulder's gold-tinted skin, caressing his ass. Then he grasped the end of the plug and pulled it out in one swift movement, making Mulder gasp again, and tossed it into the tub.

"I decide what fills you tonight, slave," Skinner growled. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Master," Mulder gasped, then groaned as Skinner bestowed two more swats on his ass. The swats were followed by caresses, and then the feeling of a tongue moving over the warm skin. Firm hands grasped his cheeks and pulled them apart, exposing his opening to Skinner's eyes. Mulder felt a breath of air ghost over his opening and shuddered deliciously.

"I'm feeling a little hungry," Skinner announced in that low, sexy growl that Mulder found so erotic. He licked across the exposed hole with the flat of his tongue, then poked the tip into the loosened tunnel.

Mulder groaned and tried to remain still, tried not to push back against the tongue that possessed him completely. He loved it when Skinner did this to him at any time, but something in the way the older man was rimming him tonight made him feel like it was for Skinner's pleasure alone, not his own, and that thought was making him feel more turned on than ever. He didn't even need to glance down at his cock to know that he was hard as steel, that coming was definitely not going to be a problem.

He felt the lightning flash through his body, igniting every nerve, and cried out as he came hard. The mouth moved away from his body, the hands releasing his hips, and he fell weakly to his knees. He knelt there for a long moment, panting and trying to regain whatever brain cells he had left, vaguely aware that Skinner was moving around the bathroom, going through the mundane chores of brushing his teeth and hair.

"When you're finished cleaning up in here," a cool voice drifted down to him, "you may prepare my dinner and bring it upstairs. I'll be resting on my bed."

"Yes, Master," Mulder said weakly. He grabbed a towel and wiped down the sink and floor, tossing it in the hamper, then headed downstairs on wobbly legs. _Walter's going to send me into an early grave_ , he thought, and couldn't help the grin that crossed his face.

He had picked up food from Skinner's favorite Thai restaurant on the way home, had set it in the oven to keep warm, so all he had to do was prepare a tray with the food and drink but he took his time, to allow Skinner the chance to rest and recuperate. And he couldn't help wondering what else the other man had in store for him. He certainly hadn't expected this overwhelmingly positive response to his little game – the most he had hoped for was that Skinner would push him onto his back and fuck him through the living room floor. But this – this was so much more, and so much better, and it made his inventive brain race, wondering what other kinds of games he could convince his lover to play, once they were settled in the new house. He'd need to do a _lot_ more research, he thought with a grin.

Mulder carried the tray upstairs and found Skinner stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed. Mulder carefully set the tray down on the bed and anxiously studied his lover. For a moment, a serious qualm went through him – it had probably been a hell of a week at work, with everyone trying to pack five days of work into three, and probably short staffed, and Skinner was undoubtedly exhausted. The other man had probably wanted nothing more than a quiet evening at home, and here Mulder had pushed him into playing this game through his own selfishness.

He was just getting into mentally kicking himself when Skinner's eyes opened, his eyes fixing on Mulder with such an intent look that any thoughts Mulder had immediately flew out the window. Automatically, his hand popped down to his cock but he needn't have worried – the smoldering look that the other man was giving him would have revived far more satiated flesh than his own. He swallowed hard and went to his knees, assuming the slave position again and waiting with breathless anticipation for Skinner's next move. _Walter exhausted?_ He thought with an internal snort. _Not by any definition of the word_.

"Are you hungry, slave?" Skinner asked, the tone of his voice indicating that he didn't care one way or the other, only that it would be inconvenient for him if the slave keeled over from hunger.

"No, Master," Mulder said, hiding his amusement at this bit of play-acting since Skinner usually had a coronary at the idea of Mulder missing a meal. "I ate earlier."

Skinner gave him a sharp look, as if assessing the truthfulness of that remark, and appeared to be satisfied by the look Mulder gave him in return. "Good. I desire entertainment while I eat. I want to watch you play with yourself."

Mulder relaxed slightly – since their first weekend at the Club, this had become a very common order for Skinner to issue. The Dom knew how hot it made Mulder to be watched, and Mulder knew that it was a turn-on for Skinner as well. He spread his knees apart and arched his back so that he could give a better show, then grasped his cock.

"No," Skinner growled, and tossed the plug he had removed earlier at Mulder, followed by a tube of lubricant.

Mulder stared down at the items and flushed in embarrassment. It was one thing to fist himself for Skinner, and quite another to fuck himself. He had gotten accustomed to using his fingers to lube and stretch himself, and to inserting things like this plug into his ass, but he didn't have an audience when he did that.

"I'm waiting," Skinner said in his ominous "master" voice.

Mulder slowly picked up the implement. With shaky hands, he opened the lubricant and spread a thick coat on the plug, then rolled onto his back. He pulled his knees up to his chest, then gingerly inserted the plug into his hole. He was still lubricated from earlier and relaxed from his two orgasms, so it slid in easily. Mulder chanced a look over at the bed and saw that Skinner was watching him intently, as if he wanted to pounce on him and eat him up. He fought back another blush, closed his eyes, and concentrated on what he was doing, what he was feeling. After all, this was his fantasy, and in it he was the perfect pleasure slave. One who was accustomed to lust-filled eyes watching him, who was proud of his body and of his ability to entice any man to his bed with his skills. Slowly and with more confidence, he pushed the toy into his body and pulled it out, angling it so that it rubbed the right places. He moaned and glanced over at Skinner, and saw that the other man had set aside his tray and untied his robe, and was fisting himself as he watched Mulder. The image was so hot that it almost pushed Mulder over the edge.

"Up here. Now." Skinner pointed to the bed where he had spread out a large towel on the sheets. Mulder dropped the plug on the floor and gingerly climbed onto the bed. A swat to his backside made him hastily move into place on his hands and knees, his ass in the air. Skinner grasped the chain that loosely connected his hands and looped it over a knob on the headboard; it really wouldn't keep Mulder immobilized since the chain was thin and could easily be pulled back down over the knob, but the intent was clear. Skinner knelt beside his head, and Mulder automatically opened his mouth so that the other man could shove his cock inside.

"That's it, slave. Get it good and wet because that's all you're getting before I fuck your tight little ass."

Mulder obediently laved the hard cock with his tongue, getting it as wet as possible, although he knew that he was lubed and stretched enough now. Still, the fantasy of being at the hands of a merciless master was hot and made his cock throb painfully. He had an idle moment to wonder if Skinner would consider another variation of the game in the future, with him as a Helpless Virgin in the hands of a Vile Rapist, before he surrendered all thoughts to the fucking his mouth was getting.

Skinner pulled his cock out of Mulder's mouth and crawled around to kneel between Mulder's legs. The younger man spread his knees wider apart, giving Skinner better access.

"That's it, my sweet slave," Skinner growled. "Spread yourself wide for me. Been a long time since I've had such a talented whore in my bed." He placed his cock at the entrance to Mulder's body and pushed inside in one smooth glide, and Mulder groaned at the sweet burn of invasion. Skinner pulled out and thrust back in again, hard, and pinned the younger man beneath his bulk as he bit Mulder's shoulder and growled in his ear, "So fucking hot. You love getting your ass fucked, don't you, slave?"

"Yes, Wa – Master," Mulder gasped, pressing backward as he tried to incite the other man to move. "Fuck me, Master. Please, please, fuck me."

"Oh, I intend to," Skinner growled, and thrust into Mulder one time, as if in demonstration. "I'm going to fuck you so hard and so long that you'll still feel me in you a week from now. So you'll always know who your master is. It'll be _days_ before you can walk – and that's if I decide to let you out of my bed." He leaned back, grasping Mulder's hips, and started his hard thrusts again. "I think I'll just keep you chained here, like this. Where I can use you anytime I want."

Mulder groaned, nearly out of his mind from the dual stimulation of words and actions, and came hard. He was dazedly aware of Skinner continuing to pound into him, of Skinner's shout as he came, of the larger body collapsing on him and squashing him into the bed. Vaguely, he thought about protesting at his near suffocation, but his brain was completely disconnected from his body and words refused to form.

After a few minutes, he felt Skinner ease out of him and collapse on the bed next to him. A gentle hand caressed his damp skin and a concerned voice said, "Mulder? You okay?"

"Yeah," Mulder managed to croak. "Ohhhh, yeah."

He heard Skinner's chuckle and felt the bed move as the other man got up and went into the bathroom to fetch a damp cloth. "Mmmm," he murmured lazily as the cloth ran down his back and ass. "Feels good."

Skinner parted his lover's cheeks and did a quick inspection. "You'll be a little sore tomorrow, but no serious damage."

Mulder grinned and rolled over onto his back. "I'm not complaining."

Skinner chuckled again and leaned over to gently kiss Mulder's bruised mouth, then pulled the chain free of the headboard. "You are such a slut."

"And damn proud of it." Mulder roused himself enough to wrap an arm around his lover to hold him in place for a moment. "Thank you, Walter," he said softly.

"You're welcome," Skinner said gruffly, kissing him again. "And thank you for giving me another chance."

"You liked it?" Mulder asked anxiously.

"Ohhhh, yeah," Skinner said with a grin, echoing his lover's earlier comment. "I hope there's more where that came from."

Mulder smiled widely at that, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I've got _lots_ of ideas." He yawned suddenly.

"I've got an idea, too," Skinner said, using the cloth to wipe down Mulder's abdomen, then wrapping it up in the towel that had been under Mulder, tossing it towards the laundry hamper. "I think that Master and slave should curl up under the covers and take a nice long nap."

"Sounds like a plan," Mulder muttered, already half-asleep. Skinner lay down and pulled the covers over the two of them, drawing his spent lover into his arms. Mulder gave a contented sigh and snuggled in closer, and fell sleep between one yawn and the next.

Skinner tightened his hold slightly, too content to care that the cuff still fastened around his lover's wrist was a bit uncomfortable pressed against his waist and that the thin chains were going to make an interesting pattern on his skin. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, enjoying the combined scents of sex and body oil, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

 

Skinner slowly came awake, gradually aware of the light penetrating the blinds and the sound of water running in the distance. The bed beside him was empty, and he felt vaguely disappointed - he had been looking forward to what Mulder's slave-boy persona had planned for a wake-up call.

The water went off and a few minutes later the bed dipped slightly as his lover crawled across it. Warm lips kissed his bare shoulder and a few drops of water from Mulder's wet hair splashed onto his skin.

"Morning," Mulder said softly.

Skinner rolled onto his back, intending to protest the unexpected dampness on his skin and his "slave's" early morning desertion. But the words died unvoiced on his lips as he stared up into this lover's face. Mulder's damp hair was sticking up like a kid's, and his eyes were glowing with humor and happiness. He was beautiful.

"'Bout time you woke up." Mulder said, grinning. "I thought you wanted to get on the road to the cabin early. I've got our stuff packed, and coffee in a thermos for the trip. Oh, and extra blankets – the sky's supposed to be really clear tonight, so we should be able to see some pretty amazing stars. And if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to drop by the house for a minute and get your opinion on the paint in the kitchen. It looks brighter than on the swatch, and I don't know if it's too much – hey!"

Skinner wrapped his arm around his lover and hauled him down for a kiss. Mulder made a sexy slave-boy, and Skinner wouldn't have traded last night for anything, but the reality of Fox Mulder – as complicated and infuriating as he could be at times – was infinitely better.


	50. Money-pits & Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Skinner take a look at the renovations, then a walk down memory lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter quote comes from "Don't Want to Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith – it's probably obvious that I was listening to it while I wrote this chapter. Okay, okay, so it's a sappy chapter, but you know I always like a little sappiness before a storm…

_"I could stay awake just to hear you breathing  
_ _Watch you smile while you are sleeping_ _  
While you're far away in dreaming  
_ _I could spend my life in this sweet surrender_ _  
I could stay lost in this moment forever_ _  
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure_ __  
Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep  
'Cause I miss you, baby, and I don't want to miss a thing"

 

 

It was noon on Thanksgiving, and Skinner stood in the kitchen of the house that they were remodeling, arms folded across his chest, a heavy frown on his face. His eyes were fixed on the floor, so intent that he didn't hear the other man enter behind him.

"Walter, have you taken a look at the molding work in the living room?" Mulder said, practically bouncing as he came into the room. "That man's a genius – you can't tell where the old stuff ends and the new pieces begin. And he was able to match the color of the stain on the window frames to the mantle. The whole room is really coming together nicely."

"I hate it," Skinner said shortly.

Mulder gave him a startled look. "You do? But you personally picked out the colors for the living room – and spent four hours deciding, too."

"Not that," Skinner said impatiently. "The floor in here. I hate it."

Mulder came up behind Skinner and slid his arms around the other man's waist, resting his chin on his lover's shoulder. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's – I don't know – too – something." He glared over his shoulder as he felt his lover's chuckle. "Don't laugh. I can't identify what's wrong but it's just not – us."

"You liked the pattern in the book."

"That was in the book. Here – in our house – it just looks _wrong_."

Mulder kissed the side of his lover's neck. "So pick something else and have them replace it."

Skinner gave him an appalled look. "Are you crazy, Fox? Do you know how much this vinyl cost? Do you know what they'll charge to _replace_ it?"

"Less than it'll cost after the cabinets and appliances go in," Mulder said practically.

Skinner sighed. "You're right. It's just that it seems like we're putting an awful lot of money into this place, and we haven't even _begun_ working on the top two floors – or the playroom."

"We have the money," Mulder reminded him. "I made that investment company pay through the nose for my apartment building. And we're going to be living here for a long time. It's worth it to get it right."

Skinner sighed again. "Yeah. I just wish I knew what's _wrong_ before I try to pick something else."

Mulder turned his lover around in his arms. "Maybe I can take your mind off that for a moment." He kissed Skinner, long and tender. "Mmm, that's better."

"Yeah," Skinner, closing his eyes and leaning forward. "Much better. Good idea." He initiated the kiss this time, and both men were breathing heavier when they broke the kiss. His mouth moved down to Mulder's neck as his fingers began unbuttoning Mulder's shirt. Since Mulder had been insistent about getting them out of the apartment and on the road this morning, Skinner hadn't been able to satisfy his usual morning "itch", and his body was demanding attention.

"And I've got a better one."

Mulder grinned. "Let me guess. It involves christening another room in this house, right?"

"I knew there was a reason you're such a good investigator," Skinner said, pushing the now-open shirt off Mulder's shoulders.

Mulder hastily stripped off his lover's shirt, his mouth greedily devouring the skin he revealed. He whimpered as he felt his lover's hands inside his unfastened pants and pulled Skinner with him down onto the floor. Frantically, Mulder freed his lover's erection, then pulled Skinner down into a fierce kiss. Their bodies rubbed together but the friction wasn't enough. Skinner slid one hand down between their bodies and captured both cocks in his hand, and he heard his lover groan just before his body started jerking with release. The feel of pulsing flesh against him was enough to send Skinner over as well, and he gasped out Mulder's name as he shuddered through his release.

After a few minutes, Skinner had caught enough of his breath to sit back on his heels and look down at his lover. Mulder was almost completely naked, his jeans bunched around his calves, with semen covering his shaved body. Skinner thought that he had never seen anything more beautiful. And then he frowned.

"Walter?" Mulder asked uneasily. "What is it?"

"I know what's wrong with the flooring," Skinner said, getting up and fastening his pants. "Stay there."

He hurried into the dining room that the contractor was using temporarily as his on-site office and picked up the binders of vinyl samples, then returned to the kitchen.

"The problem is that the vinyl clashes with your skin coloring," Skinner said, tossing one book on the floor as he flipped through the two-foot square samples.

Mulder propped himself up on his elbows, grinning at Skinner. "You have _got_ to be kidding."

"I'm not," Skinner insisted. He studied and rejected a couple samples, then paused. "I think – Mulder, lay back down." He unclipped the sample from the book and set it on the floor.

Mulder did so, a look of amusement on his face, and Skinner stepped back to study the effect. "Perfect," he said nodding. "See what you think."

Mulder stood up, pulling his pants back into place, and looked at the vinyl square that Skinner had chosen. Slowly, he nodded his head. "You know, I think you're right. It just looks – right. And it'll go with the cabinets and wallpaper we chose."

"Of course," Skinner said smugly, and Mulder rolled his eyes.

"We spent hours with a decorator, _days_ looking over the samples, and you chose the flooring because it'll go with my skin coloring."

Skinner grinned. "Can't think of a better method – especially considering how much time you're going to be spending on your back on this floor."

"You are seriously kinky, Walter," Mulder said, grinning, and wrapped his arms around Skinner's waist. They kissed for another long moment, then Mulder took Skinner's hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Skinner asked, letting Mulder pull him into the hall.

Mulder grinned at him over his shoulder. "We have to chose the carpeting for the living room, right?"

Skinner laughed. "Mulder, at this rate, we'll never make it to the cabin before midnight!" He pulled Mulder back into his arms and nuzzled the skin under his lover's ear. "And I have plans for you involving a fireplace and a bottle of wine."

Mulder grinned. "Well, I guess we could finish decorating another time."

Locking up the doors, they got back in Skinner's car and headed out of the city. Mulder was quiet during the first part of the drive, looking out the window and idly drumming his fingers on the armrest, and Skinner gave him occasional concerned glances but let him have the silence he seemed to need.

Finally, as they turned off the expressway onto the rural road, Mulder glanced over at Skinner, his eyes studying his lover's face. "I didn't get the chance to ask if you were okay about what happened last night."

Skinner smiled. "I told you last night that I was more than okay with it. That was a seriously hot scene you set up, and I can't wait to see what your inventive mind comes up with in the future. Have you thought more about a playroom?"

Mulder nodded. "Sean and I talked on Monday and he took a look downstairs, then we talked to a team of designers that specialize in dungeons and playrooms. They're going to do some sketches and plans and let us take a look at them." He took a deep breath and plunged forward. "I asked them to do a classic setup in one area and then a fantasy play area – is that okay?"

"I told you that you're in charge of it, Mulder, so anything you want is fine by me."

"Yes, but do _you_ want that, too?" Mulder asked anxiously.

Skinner slowed down for a stoplight and looked over at his lover, letting his eyes show the heat that the memory of the previous night stirred in him. "I want it," he said. "Last night whetted my appetite for a certain pretty slave boy that I hope to see again."

Mulder grinned back. "Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm. And I'm already thinking about a dozen scenarios we can play out. Better make sure we have lots of lube on stock."

"God, Walter!" Mulder moaned.

Skinner chuckled. The light changed and he turned his attention back to the road as he said, "You're so easy," he teased. "Bet just saying that got you hard again."

Mulder shifted in his seat and Skinner knew that he'd pegged the situation right. "You haven't complained about that in the past."

"And I'm not complaining now. It's one of the things that I love about you, the way you're always ready for action."

Mulder flushed and gave him a look. "Well, if you wouldn't insist on pushing all my damned buttons…"

Skinner made a right turn onto the smaller road that wound back towards the cabin, giving Mulder a leer at the same time. "I _like_ pushing your buttons. Almost as much as I like unbuttoning you."

Mulder moaned and leaned his head back against the headrest. "This isn't fair! You're doing this on purpose, making me so hot, when we're _miles_ from the cabin – "

Skinner chuckled. "You won't die from a little frustration, Mulder." Mulder wriggled in his seat, trying to ease the tightness of his jeans. "Although if you keep doing that, I'm going to pull over to the side and take you right now."

Mulder groaned, his cock hardening even more. "Sounds good to me."

"Uh-uh," Skinner said. "I told you that I have plans for you."

"Right. Fireplace and wine." Mulder drew in a deep breath, willing his libido to settle. He concentrated his attention on his lover, his eyes drinking in the other man's appearance. Had it been only a year since they had confessed their true feelings for each other? A year since Walter had said that he loved him, since he had admitted he felt the same?

A smile crossed his face, lit his eyes. "I ever tell you how much I love you, big guy? And how much this past year has meant to me?"

Surprised, Skinner glanced over at Mulder and saw the soft, warm light in the younger man's eyes, the tender look on his face. It was a side of Mulder that he had first seen a year ago, one that he couldn't get enough of, and it lit a fire in his soul.

He jerked on the wheel, pulling over to the side of the deserted road, and slammed on the brakes. "The hell with the fireplace and the wine," he said thickly, and reached for his lover.

 

* * *

Mulder lay on his back, staring into the fireplace, acutely aware of the drowsing form of his lover stretched out on the floor behind him. A smile curved his mouth as he idly circled his finger along the top of his wine glass, remembering the wild, impromptu blowjobs exchanged in the front seat of the car. It had been wickedly fun and dangerous, but had only whetted his appetite for the main course.

And now, after having settled into the cabin and eaten a light dinner, they had settled down in front of the fireplace – and Skinner had promptly fallen asleep. It had amused Mulder rather than upset him, though. Although the older man hadn't said anything, it had obviously been a rough week at work and Mulder had a feeling that Skinner didn't sleep any better without him than he did without Skinner.

Mulder cautiously rolled over onto his side, propping his head on his fist as he studied the sleeping man. He loved moments like this, when his lover was asleep and he could watch him without feeling foolish. Just the feeling of the other man lying close to him, the sound of him breathing, made Mulder feel happier and safer than he could ever remember being.

There was a little smile on Skinner's face, as if he was dreaming of something pleasant, and Mulder found himself lightly running his finger over his lover's lips. A soft murmur of his name made him pull back with a smile, happy at the confirmation that it was him that Skinner was dreaming about.

He was tired, too, but he didn't want to close his eyes yet – this time was too precious to him and he didn't want to miss a moment of it. He frowned as he realized that Skinner might be cold, even with the thick rug under them, and sat up to pull the blanket off the couch. Carefully, he tucked the blanket over the sleeping man, then settled down to continue watching his lover sleep.

Skinner drifted out of a pleasantly erotic dream about his lover, aware of something warm covering him and something even warmer next to him, but not quite aware of where he was at the moment. Opening his eyes, he realized that he had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace and, for a moment, he was chagrined. After promising Mulder a romantic evening, he'd done about the least romantic thing by falling asleep.

He shifted on his side so that he could get a better look at Mulder and had to smile as he did. The younger man had obviously been tired, too, and had curled up next to him, a little smile on his face. He leaned over to gently kiss the closed eyelids, grateful beyond belief that this wonderful man was in his life. Despite how exasperated Mulder made him feel at times, he wouldn't give up a moment of this past year for anything.

Skinner considered waking Mulder up so that they could move to the bed, knowing that they were both going to be stiff from sleeping on the floor, but Mulder looked so peaceful that he couldn't bear to disturb him. Carefully, he eased Mulder into his arms and heard the contented sigh as his lover settled against him.

Skinner smiled and pulled the blanket over Mulder as well, then closed his eyes. Mulder was here, in his arms, and that was good enough for him. The rest of his plans for their weekend could wait.


	51. This Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Mulder and Scully encounter a ghostly duo, Christmas takes a decidely Spooky turn

This is a placeholder for the next chapter in the Chains story, centered around "The Ghosts of Christmas" with my own little twist. 

After this chapter is the "Chains Christmas" one, now in its proper place in the chronology. 

And then - once I finish the other stories on my plate (Including wrapping up Forging), I will come back to finish this series, at long last. I am estimating about 10 chapters, but as I have to review my notes as well as decide what episodes need to be included and where I am going to end this - and it will NOT be where the series ended - that is only a rough estimate.


	52. A Chains Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look what Santa left under the tree!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: This is a semi-PWP based on the "12 Days of Christmas in the Dungeon" which appeared on the Persuaders list (BTW - if anyone knows who I can credit for that, let me know). I had to change two of the lines to fit the story but I tried to go with it pretty much. As for the ending (okay, I can hear the screaming now) - I don't do verse but if someone comes up with an appropriate variation, I promise to write it.

Mulder opened the door to Skinner's suite at the Dionysus Club and saw that the Dom was already there.

"Sorry, Sir. I had to stop for my bag. I wasn't expecting to play this weekend."

Skinner smiled. "No problem, Mulder. This is a little Christmas treat from me to you. Take your time getting ready - I've got some preparations to complete."

Mulder eyed the large bag sitting on the table. "What are you up to, Walter?" he asked suspiciously.

Skinner smiled and shook his head. "You want to spoil your Christmas? Now scoot."

Mulder sighed and gave up. He never could get anything out of the older man when he was in his mysterious mood. He tried to be as quick as he could while cleaning his body inside and out, but by the time he came out of the bathroom whatever Skinner had been doing was tucked neatly out of sight.

Mulder took his place kneeling on the floor, laying his collar on the floor in front of him. He couldn't resist a final stroke of the sleek leather, a gift from Skinner for his birthday shortly after they had gotten together. He adored it, the first real birthday gift he had received since he was a boy, and spent many evenings oiling it or just holding it while he lay on the couch.

Skinner caught the vulnerable expression on his sub's face and he moved across the room to stand by Mulder. "Kneel up," he said softly, and Mulder rose with his collar held up in his hands. Skinner took the collar and fastened it around his sub's neck, then stroked the soft hair. "Merry Christmas, Kitten."

Mulder smiled. "Merry Christmas, Sir. What are your wishes?"

"First things first - "

"Yes, I ate before I came over," Mulder said with a grin.

"Good. Then let's get started."

Skinner crossed the room to the wall where a large sheet had been draped and pulled it away to reveal the St. Andrew's cross, now decorated with something that appeared to be leaves and yellow fruit.

"Sir, is that - a pear tree?"

Skinner grinned. "You remember the song 'The Twelve Days of Christmas'? Well, this is my version of it."

Mulder smiled back and shrugged. "Okay, I'm game. What's first?"

Skinner took Mulder by the hand and led him over to the cross. "On the first day of Christmas your Master handcuffed you to the branch on a big pear tree."

Mulder grinned as he backed up against the cross, spreading his hands and legs so that Skinner could fasten his cuffs to the rings on the four arms of the cross. "Kinky, Sir. What's next?"

"On the second day of Christmas your Master gave to you - two nipple clamps," Skinner held up two clamps joined by a slender gold chain.

"While handcuffed to the pear tree," Mulder finished up, eyeing the clamps and judging that these were a fairly mild pair. He couldn't help a slight shiver in anticipation.

Skinner ran a gentling hand along his sub's body, calming him. He leaned over to lick first one nipple and then the other, sucking the nubs into erect points. Mulder moaned and The Dom pulled his mouth away, deftly pinching up each nipple and applying the clamps. Mulder gasped and swayed a little in his bonds, and Skinner kept a soothing hand on the sub's abdomen to judge how he was adjusting. Mulder relaxed and began breathing normally again, and Skinner gave him a ghost of a kiss.

"On the third day of Christmas my Master gave to me?" Mulder asked, letting Skinner know that he was ready to continue.

Skinner nuzzled his way down Mulder's neck and took one nipple in his mouth, tugging lightly at the clamp as his tongue played with the nipple. Mulder groaned and arched closer to the teasing mouth only to have Skinner release the first clamp to play with the second nipple. Mulder let his head fall back against the frame as he enjoyed the delicious sensations, only to have his attention abruptly claimed by a sharp tug on the chain between the two clamps. He gasped and glared at the smiling Dom.

"Let me guess - three good tugs on the two nipple clamps?"

Skinner grinned. "While handcuffed to the pear tree."

Mulder shook his head at the deviousness of his Dom and said, "And on the fourth day of Christmas, what will my Master give to me?"

"Four probing fingers?"

Mulder understood the question in the voice of the Dom, and he shivered slightly as he nodded his acceptance. He loved having Skinner play with his ass and knew that Skinner enjoyed it as well. The Dom was working up to a fisting session but four was the most that Mulder had been able to comfortably accept.

Skinner unfastened his cuffs and turned him to face the cross, refastening the wrist cuffs but leaving the ankle ones free for now. He ran a caressing hand down the younger man's spine, loving the feel of the sleek skin under his hands, and pressed a kiss against the base of Mulder's neck. His left hand lay against Mulder's stomach, holding him in place as his right hand stroked down Mulder's ass. Skinner pressed one finger against Mulder's anus and felt the easy acceptance from the prepared channel as his finger slid in to the base. A second finger joined the first as he stroked in and out, hearing the soft moans from his sub as Mulder thrust his ass back for more. He laughed softly, loving the other man's total abandon to this type of pleasuring, and added a third finger, angling for the sensitive nub inside. He felt the shiver pass through his sub's body and leaned forward to nuzzle Mulder's neck. Mulder moaned and began a wordless litany of pleas for more. Skinner eased a fourth finger into the younger man's body while his other hand grasped Mulder's cock and stroked it firmly. He felt the trembling begin and intensified his stroking until Mulder exploded with a wordless cry before collapsing against the supports.

Skinner eased his fingers out and fetched a cloth to clean up the recovering sub, gently wiping him down. Mulder sighed blissfully and turned his head to softly kiss his Dom's hand, and the older man let his fingers run over the sub's face in a loving caress.

"On the fifth day of Christmas your Master gave to you - a five strap cock ring." He picked up a leather harness and fastened three straps over the younger man's cock, the fourth and fifth straps going around his balls to separate them as he murmured, "Four probing fingers, three good tugs on the two nipple clamps while handcuffed to the pear tree."

He reattached the ankle cuffs and then let his hands move slowly up his sub's body, caressing him and pressing kisses all along the warm flesh. Mulder purred under the attention, his arousal reigniting, and he couldn't wait to see what else the Dom had in mind.

"And on the sixth day of Christmas my Master gave to me - " Mulder paused and turned to look at his Dom's face expectantly.

Skinner pressed his body along the length of his sub's back and nuzzled his neck "Six spanking slaps." He felt the shiver of anticipation along Mulder's body and released the younger man, stepping back to get enough distance for arm movement. Slowly and deliberately, he bestowed six hand swats to Mulder's backside, alternating cheeks.

Mulder groaned under the sensation of swats that were not meant to punish but instead to arouse, to warm up the skin for what was coming next. He found himself chanting softly, just loud enough for the Dom to hear, "A five strap cock ring, four probing fingers, three good tugs on the two nipple clamps while handcuffed to the pear tree."

Skinner ran his hand over the slightly pink skin, soothing and warming, then turned back to the table. "On the seventh day of Christmas, your Master gave to you seven paddle whacks."

Mulder saw Skinner pick up a small round paddle that had been a present from Skinner's own master, one carved with "Fox" on it as well as an older carving of the name "Walter". He had fond memories of that paddle, the first instrument Skinner had used on him after they had readjusted their relationship following the past disastrous summer, and he loved the idea that this same paddle had once been used on Skinner as well. His cock pulsed at that and he was glad for the cock ring. He moved slightly in his bondage, thrusting his ass back towards the Dom as he waited in anticipation.

Skinner rubbed the cloth side of the paddle over the waiting ass, then lifted it and brought it down with an audible crack on the firm flesh. "One."

Mulder closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensations winding up inside him. "Six spanking slaps," he murmured.

"Two."

" - a five strap cock ring."

"Three."

" - four probing fingers."

"Four."

" - three good tugs."

"Five."

" - two nipple clamps."

"Six."

" - handcuffed to the pear tree."

"Seven."

Mulder let himself sag briefly in his bonds, already feeling the endorphins kicking in. He let go of everything, forgot the despair that he had associated with the holiday season since childhood, and just drifted, knowing that the Dom would take care of him. Skinner had reversed the paddle to the cloth side again, rubbing it over his reddened skin, and Mulder found himself purring again. He heard the Dom's chuckle at that sound and resigned himself to more teasing.

Skinner set down the paddle and ran an assessing hand over the reddened skin, judging it for heat and damage. Satisfied with his results, he knelt behind the sub and pressed a soft kiss in the middle of each reddened cheek. He heard Mulder's groan and took a firmer grip on his subs hips to hold the younger man still. With his lips and his tongue, he covered every inch of the heated skin, soothing away the pain with each caress. Mulder found tears running down his cheeks at the gentleness of his Dom's actions, tears that the paddling had not been able to bring out, tears that melted away the internal knots of pain while soothing the external discomfort.

Skinner moved his hands to gently part the cheeks and blew on the exposed opening, watching in amusement as it spasmed at the least bit of attention. What a little slut his Kitten was, he thought indulgently as he leaned forward to caress the opening with his tongue. Mulder gasped and wiggled in his hands, trying unsuccessfully to push himself back further against the teasing tongue but Skinner held him firmly in place. Leisurely, taking his time, he licked and probed and tongue-fucked the bound man, listening with only half an ear to the mixture of curses, moans, and entreaties from the man writhing in his hands.

When he finally released Mulder, and stood up, the younger man was nearly trembling with his need. Skinner stood close to him again, his chest against the younger man's back, his arms wrapped around Mulder's waist as he soothed him and settled him back down. He pressed gentle kisses against the neck above the collar and bit at an earlobe. Mulder shuddered and turned his head, seeking kisses, and Skinner allowed him one before moving back away towards the table. Mulder's eyes followed him, watching his hand hover over the selection of instruments before selecting a soft flogger. Mulder let his head drop forward with a smile as he picked up the logic in choosing this cat with its eight "tails".

"On the eighth day of Christmas my Master gave to me eight whips that crack," he half-sang, "seven paddle whack, six spanking slaps, a five strap cock ring, four probing fingers, three good tugs on the two nipple clamps while handcuffed to the pear tree."

Skinner chuckled, marveling at the mood swings that this kind of play brought out in his sub and recognizing that Mulder was close to flying. He flexed the lightweight flogger in his hands, one designed for erotic tingling and not pain, and set to work. He moved in a steady pattern over Mulder's back and ass and thighs, watching the gradual pinking of the skin under this attention, gauging how hard to strike and where it was most effective from his subs gasps and moans. Mulder was trembling all over now, on the edge, a constant litany of pleas falling from his lips now.

Skinner set down flogger, ignoring the protests, and unchained the ankle cuffs. He leaned close to Mulder's ear, growling in the way that he knew that Mulder loved, "On the ninth day of Christmas your Master gave to you nine nasty pinches." He reached around to pinch each of Mulder's still pink ass cheeks once each, and then squeezed each nipple. Mulder moaned, torn between pulling away and pushing closer. Skinner pinched his ass cheeks again, then each nipple again before finally reaching down to squeeze the sub's balls. That was it - Mulder felt the combined sensations of pain and pleasure push him over the edge, and he collapsed into the sheer bliss with a delighted whimper.

Skinner wrapped his arms around the blissed-out sub, kissing Mulder's neck until he heard a giggling protest of "tickles". He grinned - it still amused him that Mulder on an endorphin high was a giggler. He felt the totally relaxation of the body in his arms and a soft murmured voice.

"And on the tenth day of Christmas?"

"Ten tender touches," Skinner said softly. He ran a soothing hand over Mulder's belly, then stepped back so that he could run his hands over the sub's back and then his ass. Gently, he ran his hands down each leg, massaging the muscles tenderly, removing each cuff as he reached it. He unfastened each arm, one at a time, massaging each one to ease the tension of being in place for so long, removing the cuffs on each of them. When Mulder was unbound from the cross, Skinner turned him around and leaned the still-floating man against the frame. He carefully removed the cock harness, gently caressing the semi-erect penis and heard a blissful sigh. Finally, he removed the nipple clamps, bracing Mulder for the backlash of pain as blood rushed into the clamped flesh. Mulder sagged in his arms, out for the count from this final rush of stimulation, and he swung the younger man up into his arms and carried him over to the bed.

Mulder swam up from blissful darkness to find himself cradled in Skinner's warm arms as soothing arms stroked his skin. He turned his head up to smile at the Dom. "That was wonderful."

"We're not done yet," Skinner said softly. "There are Twelve days of Christmas."

"So what did my Master get me for the eleventh day?"

"Eleven loving kisses."

Skinner leaned over to gently kiss each nipple, then pressed a kiss on the end of Mulder's cock, chuckling as it twitched with the return of interest. Moving down the bed, he placed a kiss on the inside of each ankle before rolling Mulder over on his side and coming back up to kiss each rosy cheek and the pucker in-between. He lifted each arm in turn, kissing the pulse point on each wrist, then leaned over to thoroughly kiss Mulder's mouth. The younger man's arms came up around him, holding Skinner in place as he returned the kiss. Mulder sighed as the Dom released him.

"And for the twelfth day of Christmas, what on earth could my Master give to me to top all this?"

Skinner smiled and pressed a kiss against his nose, ignoring Mulder's indignant protest. "Wait here." He slid out of bed and went to the closet, fetching a box and returning with it to the bed. Mulder opened the carton and saw gaily-wrapped packages inside, each one with a number. "Well, open them, brat."

Mulder pulled out the one marked with a one and slowly unwrapped it. Inside the box was a silver chain ankle cuff, and he looked up at Skinner questioningly. Skinner smiled.

"For special occasions. Birthdays, Chanukah, New Years, 4th of July, submission of accurate budget reports - "

Mulder snorted. "Asshole."

"That's Master Asshole to you, brat."

Mulder continued unwrapping, finding the mate to the ankle cuff in #2, wrist cuffs in #3 and 4, silver nipple clips with a silver connecting chain in #5, and tiny nipple bells on silver chains in #6 and 7 with a comment about belling the cat that earned Skinner a glare. Boxes 8 through 11 contained a silver cock-harness with a corresponding accessory for his balls, a chain attached to an anal plug, and a silver link belt for attaching them to. Mulder sighed and rolled his eyes, foreseeing that he would be required to wear these under his clothes sometime soon, and picked up the final box. When he opened it, he sat staring at it in stunned surprise for a long moment before reaching out with a trembling hand to lift a silver necklace from the box. The script on the front of the tag said "Kitten" and, on the other side, read "from Master". Mulder swallowed hard, looking up at his Dom and lover through tear-blurred eyes.

Skinner took the necklace out of his hands and fastened it around Mulder's neck saying softly, "I thought you could wear this one all the time to help you remember that you are not alone, that there is someone who loves you and is here for you."

"Walter - " Mulder voice cracked as he tried to express his thanks, and he had to resort to non-verbal communication to demonstrate just how thoroughly he had learned this lesson.

**************

Skinner woke with the delicious languidness of post-coital bliss and stretched lazily in the bed. Automatically, his hand reached out to caress his bedmate and found that he was alone, although the warmth of the spot next to him told him that this was a recent development. He blinked his eyes open and looked around the room, past the scattered pieces of his clothes and silver chains around the bed, and his eyes widened as they fell on his quarry.

And, from across the room, a sultry voice said, "On the first day of Christmas, your submissive gave to you…"

 


End file.
